An Expansive Palate [Open]

[Martyr]

An expansive palate was something of a virtue. One could subside on the same thing day in and day out, and many people did. But, that was hardly living. 

No, a life well-lived was one that involved a sampling of every bit of data from Earth, and frankly beyond. 

It was why she was here in the first place, at a modest little bistro in Manhattan. She was here to expand her palate. It didn't matter that she was an autotroph who did not actually eat. 

As a lepidopterist might collect butterflies for their pretty wings, Ruby Thursday collected men. Momentarily, taking them in before moving on to her next fleeting fancy. Hopefully this match would be more fancy than fleeting. It was a blind date, set up by an acquaintance.

Her ruby red orb was on full display, as this particular place was ID friendly. 

She wore a dress that looked a bit like some form of 70s futurism. The orange part of her sleeveless dress featured a V-shaped neckline and went to her knees in an A-line. Behind this was a white V-insert that formed a sort of turtleneck. It had a half dozen buttons going down the middle. It also had a two inch wide white belt with three orange buttons on it. She wore orange flats.  

There he was. She watched him as he approached the table. Her face was absolutely neutral, given that it was a ruby red sphere.

Template adapted from Silv.

[numble]

As Orb walked into the restaurant he was relieved knowing that it was ID friendly. He took off the large hat that with the high collar of his jacket barely covered his head from view, revealing that his head was in fact just a gigantic eyeball. He hated wearing hats because he was literally setting them onto his eye but it was truly the only easy way he could go about incognito, without notice. He sighed contentedly as the stinging sensation went away and looked around the restaurant.

The friend who had set him up hadn’t given a description and had simply said “You’ll know her when you see her, she’s perfect for you.” They had certainly been right, he knew her when he saw her. With a giant red orb for a head, he immediately understood why they’d been set up. A clear generalization had been made- orb for head will be attracted to orb for head. He felt some irritation at that but he couldn’t deny that he was intrigued. He felt a bit under dressed when he noticed how nice her dress was but he was at least wearing a buttoned shirt with his dark jeans- he couldn’t fit tee shirts over his head.

Sheepishly he approached her and sat down. “Uh- Umm… Hello.” he nodded slightly. “I’m The Orb. You must be Ruby?” He raised his hand and offered it to her to shake but then thought better of it and pretended he’d been reaching for a napkin instead. This wasn’t a business meeting, don’t be stupid. You don’t shake hands on a date. He took the napkin and dabbed at his forehead, stinging his eye again as the napkin touched it. He made an uncomfortable noise and placed the napkin on the table. “Sorry. I don’t go on many dates.”

[Martyr]

In the world of robotics there was a well-known concept of the uncanny valley. As a machine was more like you, its familiarity steadily increased. That is until a certain point, the uncanny valley, where familiarity crated and became unfamiliar. It was a disquieting similarity until it returned to its normal relationship.

Her date had a perfectly spherical head. There was nothing so ugly as the non-spherical lines of a nose or cheekbones. His head was far too big. What was an eyeball but a circle within a circle within an sphere? And yet, the eyeball had an unpleasant squishiness. It was nothing like the amorphous plastic feel of her own perfectly round ruby head.

This was not the only that that was both familiar and foreign about this man. There was an awkwardness. There was a cadence. There was a presence.

There was a 77.4% chance that this was Wade Wilson trying for a second try in a ridiculous disguise. Why else would he be so like her in such a superficial way? It amused Ruby Thursday at this moment to play along with this probable Wade.

 In a matter of speaking. I am Ruby Thursday professionally, or Doctor Rubinstein personally. Call me either, I have no real preference. 

Probable Wade mentioned that he didn't go on many dates. Was this an attempt at a jab? There was a reason you didn't get a second one. Well, didn't until now.

 I find it to be a regular occurrance. Maybe you've known a few. Does that make you uncomfortable? Some men find a certain discomfort in any discussion of the for lack of a better term, competition. 

Template adapted from Silv.

[numble]

Orb stared at his reflection in the red sphere that was his date’s head, the reflection making it almost look as though she too had an eye for a head. It was mildly disconcerting but he was in no place to complain, considering he was the one with the actual eye-head.

“Oh wow, I didn’t realize you were a doctor.” He pulled a menu over and glanced down at it as he attempted small talk. “What kind of doctor? Science? Medicine?” He looked back at her, attempting to meet her gaze without knowing just where her gaze was coming from. “I mostly do mercenary work and eye related crimes. I robbed an optometrist’s last week but it didn’t get much news coverage. Some other guy almost blew up Queens so he got all the air time.”

He listened more as Ruby mentioned her dating prowess. He thought it was a weird thing to bring up but it didn’t really bother him much. “It doesn’t really bother me, no. Can beggars really be choosers? It’s not really by choice that I don’t go out much.” He shrugged. “So a date with anyone is nice. It doesn’t do me any favours to be jealous.”

He turned his eye back to the menu, flipping it over to look at drinks. Waving the server over he asked “Do you want a drink? One of the cocktails caught my eye. It’s easier for me to drink things with a straw.” He imagined she had the same questions about him consuming food as he had her. Where does it go? Is there a mouth somewhere? Is that really her head or just a helmet? He didn’t have long to ponder as a waiter approached.

“Hi, can I have a gin and tonic please?” He looked over to Ruby for her order.

[Martyr]

 Kinds. , she corrected.  I have more than one. The one most salient to the conversation to come is computer science. I taught at a university, but I haven't been involved in academia since October the fifth, 1972. That was date I removed my own human head and replaced it with this perfectly spherical form. 

He then spoke of his own history.

 Eye-related crimes? , she asked when he mentioned it, before he clarified.  It's certainly thematic. Which leads to the question. I told you the origin of my head. How did you come about yours? Genetic engineering, witch's curse, are you a mutant?  She seemed to believe, at least, that what she was looking at was an actual eye and not an elaborate helmet.

She was curious what sort of tale probable Wade would weave. He hadn't been overly good at stories the last time around.

His non-challant reaction to the prospect of other men now had her entirely convinced. She would still keep this to herself for now.

He ordered a drink. She did as well.  Brandy Alexander.  There should be no question how exactly she drank. Deadpool had seen it during their last encounter.

Template adapted from Silv.

[numble]

Orb nodded along as she explained that she had many doctorates. Of the few dates he’d had, she was by far the most accomplished. Her comment about removing her own head raised many additional questions for him but they didn’t feel worth asking. Between the two of them, if seemed like they’d get into the weeds very quickly if he asked too many questions.

When she asked about his head he leaned back and gestured to it. “Oh, none of those. I was just born with it. Though I’m not a mutant, just a man with an eye for a head. I was raised in a freak show, actually. Rather unpleasant.” It had indeed been unpleasant. He’d barely survived his life of captivity before becoming a mercenary/criminal. “So my origins are pretty unremarkable, despite my appearance.”

It was then that the waiter came back with their drinks. Orb took his and said his thanks before sticking the straw directly into his pupil and drinking some of it. “Not bad!” He commented before gently setting it on the table. “I hope yours is also to your satisfaction.”

[Martyr]

 You were born with a giant eyeball head, and yet you are not technically a mutant? That certain does leave the possibility of a witch's curse. Are you entirely sure some ancestor of yours didn't encounter someone who took the phrase "an eye for an eye" in strange new directions?  , Ruby Thursday asked.

Her date drank through his pupil. She wasn't going to judge. She created a straw out of her own head and used it to drink her Brandy Alexander. Still, from what she could see, the eyeball appeared to be a collected pool of moisture, not some sort of thin wire mesh one might see in a theme park costume. For a man who often complained about making rent, Deadpool paid some artist a lot of money to make such a thing, it looked like.

 It is not the worst I've had by some measure.   It was a sort of endorsement of the drink.

 To circle back to freak shows of the proverbial kind, how often do you encounter the menagerie of malcontents in our profession during your ahem eye-related crimes? Have you fought Captain America? Spider-Man? Doctor Strange? Deadpool?  

Template adapted from Silv.

[numble]

Orb pondered this for a moment. Having been raised in a freakshow he didn’t really know anything about his ancestry. “You know, I supposed I can’t rule it out. I can’t remember my parents so who can say what they got up to.” He took another sip of his drink, leaning back in his seat. He didn’t often think about his parents, surprising since they represented such a large question mark in his life. Perhaps they also had eyeball heads. Probably not, considering they gave him to a freakshow.

Her next question was easier to answer. “I’ve fought Spider-Man before, yes. Wolverine too… and Ghost Rider. I lost all of those times though… I’ve never fought Deadpool though. Since I occasionally do mercenary work though, we’ll probably cross paths sooner or later.” he shrugged. “Have you fought many heroes?” He expected she would have a longer list of enemies than his- his crimes were often considered small-time due to their eye related nature.

[Martyr]

 Who have I fought? Well, all the ones I already listed. Also, the Hulk, Silver Surfer, Namor, the Submariner, most every one of the Defenders, really.  , Ruby Thursday replied.

She addressed the Orb's mentioning of the Wolverine.

 The X-men and I rarely cross paths. The Taskmaster's daughter did bring me to their mansion at a time so that I may fix some rudimentary issues with her ward who had burn turned into a jelly monster by the Dark Beast. *

It was interesting that he specifically mentioned not having fought Deadpool without mentioning not having fought Doctor Strange. It was also telling.

She decided to stop toying with him. She knew his secret. His sad, sad secret.

Ruby Thursday leaned forward folding her fingers into each other as she did. 

 Wade, this is pathetic. Take off your helmet, or mask, or whatever that is. You'd think me sending Sabretooth to tear your intestines out would be signal enough that there wasn't going to be another date. **  

Template adapted from Silv.

* As seen in A Scarlet Crown - 'Memberin' Martyr
** As also seen in Letting Go - 'Memberin' Martyr

[numble]

Though his glistening eye of a face betrayed no emotion, Orb could not help but feel impressed, if not even a little intimidated by Ruby’s long list of foes. He was still proud of his own work but it felt somewhat paltry by comparison. “The Hulk? And the Silver Surfer?” He let out a low whistle. “That’s pretty damned impressive, to have gone up against them and lived to tell the tale. The dust and debris alone from fighting Hulk, I’d have a hell of a time.” He pointed at his head and shuddered a little. “I’d get some major irritation for sure.”



He noticed her sudden shift in body language and was then quite taken aback by her accusation. “Wade…?” He looked as genuinely confused as an eyeball could. “Wait you think I’m…?” He pointed at himself and then chuckled a little. “No no no, I’m just Orb, honest.” He tilted his head back to show where his eyeball met his neck. “No mask or helmet, this is just… me.” He shrugged and looked back at her. “I hope that’s not a disappointment, though you do seem unhappy at the prospect of me being Deadpool. I take it that date didn’t go so well?”



He shifted in his seat a little. “So…. was it this whole time? That you thought I was Wade, I mean. I guess that’s fair… I was also suspicious to meet someone with… similar features to my own. Too good to be true?”

[Martyr]

  Impressive? Only if you don't have any scientific acumen. The Hulk is only an issue for those with an intellect close to his own. Brawn means nothing against brains.   

She was probably leaving something out given that simply being smart was not really enough to take out a rage monster.

The Orb denied that he was Wade directly and showed the seamless fusion of his neck and eyeball. That probably wasn't prosthetics. Deadpool wouldn't be thorough enough to make something like that actually work.

The Orb asked her if her date with Deadpool hadn't gone well.

  The date went fine, about as fine as the one we're having now, mistaken identity not withstanding. The issue was the aftermath. He got too clingy.   

That was a lie. She was the one who felt too close, but if she wasn't exactly honest with herself, why would she be honest with someone else.

 It was time to order. She went with a penne pasta served with Bolognese and lion's mane mushrooms.    

Template adapted from Silv.

* As seen in A Scarlet Crown - 'Memberin' Martyr
** As also seen in Letting Go - 'Memberin' Martyr