Ushahin's Guide For Getting Along With Your Neighbors | Closed

[ushahin]

Who: Ushahin ushahin + the residents of House 1! (fortunefavored, verinumeri, skelebro, and ishotyouuu)
What: Ushahin invites himself over for dinner. Hilarity (or something?) ensues.
Where: Delight's Housing, House 1
When: 7/21
Warnings: Language, perhaps? Ushahin's mind-reading, probably.

Ushahin had woken up that morning and decided that he needed to get to know his neighbors better. No, really, that's about all the thought process he'd gone into before he'd made a pie and ended up on their doorstep as what passed for dusk in the cave approached. Their minds were most fascinating and the close proximity meant he kept getting snatches of random thoughts from the inhabitants of the house right next door to him. He'd never had neighbors before. Living in a castle was more like a miniature city.

So now he was doing the friendly thing. Plus, there was the possibility of getting a free dinner. He'd already introduced himself to three of the four and their relationship was best described as being...complicated. He knocked on the door until it was answered. "Good evening," he said politely to the one standing there. Without so much as a by-your-leave, he shouldered past him into the house. "I have brought a pie."

Comments

[skelebro]

Sans isn't typically the one to answer the door by default, but someone keeps knocking on the door and there's been some mysterious squabbling (more so than usual) coming from the Newt-Hermann conglomerate, and seeing as Wade seems more inclined to field that mess (a relief; that really isn't Sans's area), that leaves one guy to answer the darn door.

Sans opens the door.

Sans blinks.

Sans tries to close the door at once.

"Nope," he says cheerfully, but Ushahin's already making his way inside.

His grin gets a little more fixed as he turns, very conspicuously not closing the door as he watches him just go ahead and cut out the middle-monster by striding right on in.

"Please," he says, with the barest hint of irony lacing an otherwise pleasant tone, "make yourself at home."

[ushahin]

"I intend to," Ushahin says, his words drifting back over his shoulder towards where Sans is still at. It's a bit ambiguous as to whether he's being deliberately dry or is actually oblivious to what his presence might entail.

He sets the pie down in the kitchen on the counter. Hopefully they like garlic and cheese. It's been a while since he's had to cook anything for anyone but himself. The half-breed saunters back into the living room, looking for a place to sit down. Yes, he intends on making himself good and cozy in their humble abode.

Deal with it.

[ishotyouuu]

Ushahin doesn't get very far with his search for a cozy spot, because things are about to get decidedly uncozy in a few seconds.

The intruder will suddenly find his arms pinned to his sides in a very strong hold, while something cold and oblong and metallic finds itself pressed against his jawline. See, the fourth person living in this house-- the one Ushahin hasn't met before? He's a mercenary. A very talented mercenary, in fact. A very talented mercenary equipped with a powerful healing factor, several years worth of PTSD, and a hair-trigger temper.

"Hi there," the mercenary says, his voice deceptively warm and cheerful as if he's not currently positioning the muzzle of a rather powerful-looking handgun underneath Ushahin's chin. "I don't think we've met. Name's Deadpool. Wanna tell me what the fuck you're doing in my house before I decide you're better off without a frontal lobe?"

[ushahin]

The only sign that Ushahin is at all startled is the slight widening of his eyes. He hadn't even seen or heard Wade until he was right on top of him. This man is fast. He shifts his neck so that the gun isn't pressing in quite so hard. So this is the fourth mind he kept sensing in the house. When he speaks, he doesn't sound at all afraid. If anything, he sounds impressed. "My name is Ushahin Dreamspinner. I live next door. Sans let me in. Pleased to meet you."

He tries to press into Wade's mind and finds himself almost immediately rebuffed. A puzzled expression briefly creases his brow. He tries again and finds himself getting a headache. Surface thoughts, that's all he can get, and even those are fragmentary. This man's mind is too much even for the old immortal to handle. That leaves him without his usual weapon. Uh-oh.

[verinumeri]

At that moment, the Newt(on)-Hermann conglomerate ascend the stairs. As they are in fact two separate people, Hermann's first, though he's scowling over his shoulder, rebutting. There had been no commotion, they had not heard the door opening, no telltale noise -- Mr. Dreamspinner simply had good timing in that it was about time to start preparing dinner.

Meaning, that as Hermann's scowling back and down at Newton, saying,

"I don't like Pepsi or Coca Cola, why --"

He's happily and wholly oblivious until he reaches the floor on why and there's more periphery. Hermann jerks back, startled, almost tottering on the landing, except that he quickly side steps, his cane angled just so. Mr. Dreamspinner is in the house, Mr. Deadpool's got him held tight and at gun point, and Mr. Sans stands pointedly by the open door.

Hermann's mouth gapes, flaps, his eyes darting around the room then searching out Newton's before he finds his voice.

"No shooting in the house! I don't -- want to clean that up, what is going on here?"

His fingers spasm as he gestures at Mr. Dreamspinner.

"Why are you here?"

[ushahin]

Ushahin only moves his eyes, still unable to move his neck due to the gun shoved into his skin. He seems remarkably calm despite the circumstances, much more calm than Hermann himself is.

"Good evening, doctor. I thought that I should stop by and get to know my neighbors. It seemed the polite thing to do." The way he's talking, you'd think they were having a pleasant chat instead of Ushahin being held at gunpoint by a trigger-happy mercenary.

He'd ask the good doctor if he can get Wade to let him go, but he's afraid of pressing his luck. He's talking enough as it is.

[fortunefavored]

Newt follows Hermann up the stairs, freezing at the top of it, startled and moreover immediately, viscerally scared--but then Hermann meets his eyes and says the bit about cleaning up the mess and then THAT fucker says he's visiting, and there are just so many shades of N O P E happening in every corner of Newt's body right now. He wants him out. He wants him as far away from them as possible.

Except...apparently they're neighbors. Fuck.

"Well, if you hate cleaning up messes, Wade could always take him outside and shoot him." The statement is made fairly casually, but it's actually quite hard to tell whether he's joking or not. "Not that it would do us much good. Unfortunately he'd be back within a few days." ...Newt actually sounds regretful about that. Anyway, his eyes narrow as he folds his arms over his chest, mouth twisted into a scowl.

"Though I gotta wonder: since when did being polite mean anything to you, Ushahin?"

Yeah, that? That was straight up nasty. He's just going to stand here, glaring at Ushahin, and continue to be very, very displeased that he's in his house. He really hates this guy.

[skelebro]

Sans just watches this all go down with the same grin as always. If he had it in him to be vindictive, he might be getting some kind of twisted satisfaction out of seeing a gun get pointed to Ushahin's head. But he's not one for vengeance because vengeance is more or less bullshit, so he just finds it vaguely hilarious. Only vaguely.

"I didn't let him in," he clarifies in the general direction of his roommates who, to his mild relief (not satisfaction), seem to understand the...nuances of the guy and his particular abilities. "He just kinda let himself on in. Seems to enjoy that kinda thing."

WINK.

WINK.

NUDGE.

And, yep, Newt seems to take the exact same umbrage with Ushahin's contempt for privacy that Sans does. Except he's more obvious about it, thank god. Sans leans against the wall and opts to watch this play out.

B/C I'm out all day ALSO HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO SHADE *AND* KAIYA!

[verinumeri]

It should be noted that there is no part of Hermann that wants to see Mr. Dreamspinner shot. There is, however, an actual grim and deep-rooted, gnarled satisfaction at seeing Mr. Deadpool so efficiently restricting the man with his gun. All the more when Mr. Sans elaborates on the unsurprising details (and evidently has spoken to Mr. Dreamspinner before). He may be lesser man than Mr. Sans, perhaps, for that satisfaction.

However, he also knows that physical restraint isn't what they need to worry about, and neither Mr. Sans nor Newton's heavy-handed insinuations will tell Mr. Deadpool enough about the need to tread carefully.

It is a shame, he does not quite consciously think -- there's a subconscious resentment of his need to be reasonable, as a heady part of him would like more to pat Mr. Deadpool enthusiastically on the back and thank him for handling the threat. But, he hasn't, and it's more complicated than that.

Mouth twisting, Hermann takes a step forward, lifting his left hand in a bracing gesture.

"Mr. Deadpool, allow me to explain, as you don't seem familiar. Mr. Dreamspinner here has a nasty ability and subsequent habit of going right into one's head and poking about for whatever he likes. I met him when I arrived when he convinced a spider it had already eaten me, effectively saving me from it -- so I've another reason for requesting that you don't shoot -- then proceeded to traipse right into my mind.

I did suggest to him that people would not take kindly to it."

Did Hermann just take a moment to say 'I told you so' to Mr. Dreamspinner, his eyes flicking meaningfully to his face?

Obviously.

"However, as Newton notes, he'd be back in a few days, and he also claims he can 'shatter' the mind, having threatened to do as much to mine when Newton aggravated him."

Too bad if that won't endear Mr. Deadpool to the man. He shouldn't have done it. The only concern? It could escalate things, so Hermann continues quickly.

"The point of that is, it's not clear to me how close he'd need to be to do it, and if you go killing him and he comes back and decides to have it out on one of us, well, let's be civil?"

As much as he loathes the indirect assertion that they shouldn't assault the man because of his ability to retaliate -- a kind of conceding to a terrorist -- it's practical and more important than petty barbs or how nice it would feel to have him thrown out. It does occur to Hermann that a man who could manipulate the minds of beasts and shatter those of men might be capable of planting or urging the thought of leniency, and indeed did. It is a crawling, deeply unsettling thought. All the more reason to toss him out. His preference for that, plus telling the worst of the details, let's him hope that isn't the case.

[ishotyouuu]

Yeah, that whole speech right there? Doesn't exactly fill Wade with the utmost confidence. If anything, it makes his eyes narrow all the more. Sorry Hermann, but all he's getting from that font of information is "this guy's a crazy psychic who can get into our heads and will probably burn our brains out if you kill him, so could you please not kill him?"

Still, Hermann's reasoning, while completely off the walls, regardless have some crazy amount of sense. After a few seconds, Wade takes the gun away from Ushahin's chin, keeping it close by just in case the psychic has any delusions of control over this situation.

"I'll be keeping an eye on you, pal. For the entirety of your stay here, you an' I are gonna be the bestest friends ever. And if anyone so much as twitches in a way that I don't like, you're gettin' a 10mm lead lobotomy, understand?"

[ushahin]

"The situation is very clear to me," he assures Wade, eyeing the gun with well-placed wariness. What a good guard dog he makes. For anyone else being threatened and clearly unwanted by the residents of this house, they might take this as a sign to leave. Ushahin, on the other hand, is determined to dig his heels in. He's not going to die today, not yet at any rate, and that's good enough for him.

He adjusts the shirt and cloak he's wearing, the fabric knocked askew when Wade had grabbed him. "Did it ever occur to you, gentlemen, that if I wanted to harm any of you, I could have done it anytime over the last month? Distance is of no concern to my powers. I've been next door the entire time and done nothing. Why would I now come in and willingly submit myself to a dangerous situation if harm was my intent?"

While their reasons for not trusting him are valid, and Ushahin knows better than anyone that he's not the nicest person to get along with, his intentions this evening had been purely friendly in nature.

[skelebro]

Hermann lays down the law, or the closest thing to it, and Sans watches placidly, hands buried in the pockets of his jacket. One of his eyesockets droops partway shut as the peace talk continues, his right socket parted lazily, as if he might start dozing at any second.

He's got a whole moral standpoint against killing in a general sense, even though it seems to him like human-types seem predisposed to indiscriminately do that to each other no matter what. Either way, he's a little bit relieved when Wade backs off. He'd hate to have to intervene on Ushahin's behalf. Really, he'd hate to intervene on anyone's behalf. Intervening is not what he does, strictly speaking. Ever.

Sans begins to laugh, a low, throaty chuckle.

"Not exactly selling yourself here, buddy," he says, as casual a tone as one might use to discuss the weather. "Just as a tip, it might be best if you start things off by listing your more redeeming qualities." And not by making a helpful sidebar of fyi, I totally could have hurt and/or killed you but I'm choosing not to out of the goodness of my heart.