acatalepsy_rpg | video | dated at the very end of week one

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video | dated at the very end of week one

[The video opens on a patch of dirt, a leg stretched out along one edge of the screen. Next to the leg a number of very small muddy spots map out a connect-the-dots picture that more creative minds - or just anyone who's ever been a bored teenager - might recognize as a sort-of accurate depiction of one particular x-rated body part. A voice, cracking and hoarse like it has to drag itself over gravel to get its words out, starts speaking immediately.]

Hey, you know what makes me-

[His coughing is harsh and wet but it's only a few seconds before it stops. Hank mutters a curse under his breath, just audible, and hacks up a loogie, spitting it so it lands just so off the end of the art in the dirt next to him. The dirt there goes wet and dark, and with this artistic rendering of a drop of splooge, his masterpiece is complete. When he leans back the camera's in a different position; in the opposite corner from the dirt the screen shows the massive head of a Saint Bernard, taking up a good part of the screen and the majority of Hank's lap.]

You know what makes me feel better when I'm feeling like shit? Bitching about it. Let's bitch, guys. Tell me how shitty you've got it right now. It's not like anyone's got anything else to do here, right? I mean, not unless someone can get this big furry boulder to unglue itself from my lap. I'd have something to do if he'd just play. Look, watch this, it's pathetic.

Hey, Sumo. Fetch.

[Anyone with motion sickness might want to look away; the screen jerks around wildly as the arm with the camera on it moves to grab a rock and hold it in the air like Hank's going to throw it. Then the screen goes still again as Hank has to lean forward to cough, his dog's big, placid face now taking up the whole view. Sumo gives a single low whuff, lifts his head, and apparently settles himself right over the camera because the screen goes dark. There's the muffled sound of Hank cursing, trying to say Sumo's name between coughs, and then nothing as Hank manages to work his other hand under Sumo's jaw and shut the recording off.]

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Less sass, more dog.

[This is very important, Hank. There really aren't dogs left where he's from, this is basically the equivalent of seeing a mythical creature. Yes, this is huge. So very huge.

And don't count out robo-human disease transmission. It's been a thing in the past, long story.]

Were you holding out on me, dragonslayer? You never said you had a dog along for the ride.

[The name makes him give a surprised laugh - or that's what it's supposed to be. What it is is a cough that after a few seconds he tries to lock his jaw shut over, closing his eyes and pressing the back of his hand to his mouth until it stops. Now he needs to clear the mucus out of his throat but realizes, suddenly, that he doesn't want to look any grosser in front of this guy than he's already going to.

He swallows, grimacing, then focuses on the camera again, half his smile coming back.]

God, I forgot about that. The whole, uh, dragon thing. But uh, was I supposed to tell you about Sumo? Kind of assumed I already had but uh, I guess you're just that distracting.

[Alright, the coughing is a little concerning and enough to draw Cayde out of his dog induced stupor. The whole sick thing sounds pretty bad, that wet noise is concerning. It would behoove him to let that slip, however, and so he just barrels onward.]

Maybe I was too distracted to remember, eh eh? Ever thought about that? [That's it, that's an opening.] But now that I know there's dog inbound I'm coming over to crash, okay? Okay, sounds good, good plan, see you in a few.

[Hank raises his eyebrows at his screen, still grinning a little, and mutters a reply - this time, apparently, to himself.]

Okay. Glad we could work that out.

[He turns the video off, leans his head back against the wall, and stares at the sky for a little bit, scratching Sumo's neck absentmindedly. If Cayde does come there might be a couple more wet spots on the little dirt-art beside Hank and Hank is probably going to be staring at them, tilting his head to try and see the whole thing from a different angle. It's not like there's much else to do here, except pet his dog and talk to people.]

[It doesn't take too long to track down where Hank has decided to set up shop, the temple isn't exactly huge and despite the fact that there are now a whole bunch of people crammed into it, it still feels pretty linear. So when he rounds a corner and finally gets to lay eyes on man and beast, and phallic illness illustration, he only offers a raised hand as a greeting before gesturing lightly at the art.]

Nice.

[Making the best of a bad, and kind of gross, situation. But that's all forgotten as his attention is summarily diverted, because dog. He takes a knee beside the both of them, optic sparkling merrily with amusement and curiosity.]

We gotta stop meeting like this though. When you're all down and out, I mean. Next time, one hundred percent, alright?

[It's the closest to 'you look awful, I'm sorry you're sick' that he can get to. Reaching a hand out, he stops short of attempting to ruffle Sumo's ears rather abruptly.]

Uh, okay, so is touching a yes? No? Yes that's actually a no?

[Hey that's handy, because that's as close to hearing 'you look awful, I'm sorry you're sick' as Hank can comfortably handle. He huffs and ducks his head when Cayde says it, smiling, then looks back up to watch Cayde's hand hovering over Sumo's fur.]

A yes that's actually a yes. Most people don't even ask, they just go for it. Which is fine, I mean, he's always liked people, ever since we got him. He won't care.

[Which, in fact, he doesn't. Sumo makes a curious noise, lifting his head to get a good look at Cayde, regardless of whether or not that lifts his head right against Cayde's hand. Hank watches him a second, fond, before looking back up.]

And uh, I don't know if I can promise a hundred percent. Maybe next time we can swap instead, take turns.

[He doesn't need to be told twice and given the go-ahead he dives right in, ruffling Sumo's ears and leaning in closer until he's able to fully invest himself in ear-scritching duty. Cayde all but radiates delight, and for a minute or two it's entirely obvious that he's entirely enthralled. When Hank's words finally do pierce the dog-fog he coughs, or rather gives an approximation of a cough, and does his best to compose himself.]

Just had to ask. Last dogs I saw were scaley. And had knives attached to them. And were hopped up on chemicals to make them slaveringly insane. Not really good for petting, let me tell you.

[It's a long story. But he shakes his head adamantly at the suggestion.]

No can do, bud. Been there, done that; right before you showed up, actually. Some of that old world hopping stuff the big lady in the sky talks about. Not the most fun, let me tell you.

Ah, then I guess you're going have to settle. I can do seventy, eighty percent.

[For a second he just watches Sumo watch Cayde. Sumo tilts his head, still staring, and tries to paw at whatever part of the guy is closest.]

Is that why you got so, uh... [He nods toward Sumo's efforts to start the petting up again, referencing the whole flurry of petting that got Sumo expecting more in the first place.] Cause the last dogs you saw were uh, freaky science experiment monsters?

Hey, that's above a passing percent. I'll take it.

[Sumo is demanding more attention now, however, and Cayde is more than happy to supply it. Someone is definitely going to be getting all of the pets, all of them, even while he attempts to come up with an answer.]

Let's just say I haven't seen a real dog in a long, long time and that's a damn shame.

[Is he smooshing Sumo's face a little? Absolutely. It's really adorable, help.]

I know a guy that has wolves, but they're a lot less friendly. You're a lucky guy to have this big bud with you.

Yeah.

[Hank's looking down at Sumo, watching his dog's extremely smooshable face be smooshed with such enthusiasm and thinking about how lucky he is, and it's no wonder a little real emotion made it into that one word, there. Quick, a distraction from actual feelings, there must be something.]

What's with your home town, anyway? Did all the dogs just leave? Or, I don't know, go extinct along with the uh, with the dragons?

[He has to consider his words carefully, especially with the wonderful distraction Sumo is providing.]

That's a real, real long story.

[And one that he's been realizing doesn't make much sense to everyone else. Absentmindedly scritching Sumo under the chin, all he can offer is a shrug.]

Best I can say without getting into a whole big Tragic Backstory™ deal is that there aren't a lot of animals left back home. Sometimes you see cats, pigeons...oh! So I have this chicken, Colonel? And there’s someone with a falcon, real jittery thing he is.

Colonel?

[Hank's grinning a little, amusement thick in his voice. He lets the whole tragic backstory thing go without a second thought; those are like opinions and assholes, everyone's got one and about ninety-nine point nine nine percent of them are none of Hank's damn business, unless the other person wants them to be. Besides, the name is funny.]

What, as in 'Sanders', or...?

Exactly.

[He can't grin, it's hard to when you no longer have lips, but there's a flickering of the lights in his mouth instead.]

Well, that and he's a decorated war hero. Real humble one at that, that Colonel.

[Is...he even joking at this point?]

[Hank's grin half-fades as he watches those lights. That face is more unsettling when he's sober but he's done a pretty good job, so far, of not thinking about it. But that lighting, that - what, simulation of a grin? - it kind of draws his eye, and he has to make himself look up at the guy's eyes.

He makes himself focus on the conversation, too, when he does it, and only glances back down at Cayde's mouth once. His own mouth's grinning again, hesitantly, too aware of his own staring to not be a little embarrassed about it.]

He must have a lotta good war stories, then. I mean, life's tough out there for a chicken.

[Something about that grin, apologetic? embarrassed?, catches Cayde's eye and instead of making a snarky comment he instead waggles his brow plates and gives Hank a wink. It's not the first time someone's stared, it certainly won't be the last, and while it's still so very strange to be considered an anomaly here he's trying to take it in stride.]

Oh totally, you should hear him go on and on. We made a great team, him and I, great slayers of big ugly space rhinos (wait do you even have rhinos where you’re from???) like you wouldn't even believe. He's a wily one, that Colonel, a master tactician.

[He’s back to messing around with Sumo’s ears as he laughs quietly to himself.]

[He snorts, his smile as much relief that Cayde's so chill about his stare as it is a response to Cayde's laughing.]

Shit yeah we have space rhinos. Just ask me about the great rhino-chicken wars of '22. It's uh, rare to find a good man like your Colonel, all the other chickens were too, uh... [Chicken, chicken, they were too chicken, and Hank is absolutely not saying this stupid shit with a straight face but he's not laughing yet and that's what matters.] They ran at the first sign of trouble, you know? You got lucky with that Colonel Sanders.

[There's another approximation of a grin as he looks back over. It's...nice to banter with someone, things have been so terribly serious for the most part since he'd arrived. Hank's easy to talk to, and he appreciates that.

He pulls one hand away from dog-scritching duty in order to motion towards Hank almost expectantly.]

Well? This is me asking about 'em. You can't just bring up such a huge historical thing and not explain.

[It's impossible to try to stay serious about all of this, and that's a good thing.]

Shit, you know you weren't supposed actually ask.

[He smiles down at his knees, thinking for a second.]

It's like, uh - the whole Emu War thing, it was like that. The chickens decided there were too many rhinos eating their uh, their worm crop, so...

[He makes a finger gun at Cayde and makes a popping noise with his lips as he jerks it back. You've just been fingergunned, buddy.]

And then there was the whole uh, this whole arms race, you know? Cause the chickens had pistols and the rhinos had uh... their feet... so. Then there was a push for a lot of technical innovation on the chicken's end, uh... [He pauses, trying to look exasperated and sort of teetering near the edge of laughing.] Look, how long are you gonna make me do this?

Really, I'm just impressed you made it this far. Real impressive, like something out of an epic poem.

[There's another wink and alright, Cayde lets himself grin unabashedly. It's good entertainment, a lot of creativity, frankly Hank ought to be proud of being so resourceful on his feet. Especially considering the whole 'being sick' thing.

With a dramatic flourish, Cayde raises a hand as if he's illustrating some great point.]

I can see it now, written in history books to come, children will learn about the gruesome and bloody battles and look back with awestruck horror at the atrocities that were committed-

[He can't keep it up any longer, and he bursts into raucous laughter as he arm falls and he leans up against Sumo for any inkling of support.]

Seriously- like I'm impressed.

[Sumo gives a heavy sigh at Cayde's weight and laughter, already starting to sputter out of Hank at Cayde's dramatics, busts out full force about when Cayde's does. Hank even makes it a little after that, to the end of Cayde's compliment, before the the inevitable starts up. He turns enough that the coughing rocks him away from Cayde - robot or not, getting his germs all over the guy still feels gross - and presses the back of his forearm against his mouth until he can sit back again.]

Don't be.

[His voice sounds even raspier just now so he swallows, then swallows a couple more times, and manages to sound a little better.]

Seriously, if you're really impressed by that I feel bad for you, what kind of bullshit stories are your friends even telling that make me look good? They need to step it up.

[It's easy to forget how bad the 'space plague' is when you're not susceptible to it, but the way Hank jerks and rocks as he coughs is concerning. Concerning enough that Cayde falls quiet and reaches over to thump the man on the back, as if that's going to help dislodge whatever is stuck in his lungs.]

Nuh-uh, you're not crapping out on me yet. [Really, this is mildly concerning. But Hank rolls smoothly into something else and that's a great relief. As he removes his hand, Cayde hums quietly, as if he's thinking, before ultimately settling for absentmindedly scratching behind Sumo's ears.]

Let me tell you, you're a breath of fresh air with the stories. [Andal, Marcus, Shiro-4...how long has it been since they ran around causing hell? Too long.] Most of what I get, got? Got I guess, since we're stuck here now, most of what I got was tower reports and missions to sign off on. This? This is actually fun.

Shit, yeah. Reports suck ass. Course, I’m usually the one writing em.

[He takes a couple seconds, more to swallow and try to get something wet in his throat than to decide whether to offer more story shit. He’s pretty much already decided. He shifts around, straightening up and rolling his shoulders with the air of someone preparing for something.]

Well, your tragedy has moved me. I’m ready to tell any ridiculous, bullshit story you want, you just tell me what you want to hear about. I mean, I don’t know how much fun I can promise you, but it’ll be better than reports, or sitting around here waiting for something not-shitty to happen.

Writing them is even worse. [He bemoans that fact, has been bemoaning it for almost as long as he can remember.] It'd be easier to just scribble down some bullet points, but no, we have to get all-

[Cayde straightens his shoulders, sitting up with an air of stern disapproval and dropping his voice an octave.] 'Whether we wanted it or not, we stepped into a war with the Cabal on Mars so blah blah blah no one cares'

[He's laughing by the end of it, back to slouching comfortably with lights glinting merrily.] So hit me, dragonslayer. Gimme the wildest thing you got from back home. Doesn't even have to be true.

Yeah, I think you could probably summarize how you started a war with bullet points.

[He says it dryly, smiling, then his gaze goes distant as he thinks.]

Uh. Wild, huh? That’s a pretty wide net. What kinda wild you in the mood for? Gross-wild? Sexy-wild? Action movie-wild, something with lots of explosions? I don’t know, what genre do you like?

Edited 2018-09-27 19:22 (UTC)

Exactly!

Point one: space rhinos are bad and do bad things

You get me, you really do. [Because really, reports and paperwork are probably the worst thing in the world, even moreso than alien abominations and getting shot at on a regular basis.

He shifts, one leg stretching out and the other curved just enough so he can rest his arm upon his knee comfortably. He's settling in, this is now Serious Business.]

And y'know what? All of 'em. All the wilds. I want the weirdest, sexiest, grossest, most action filled thing you got. Go big or go home, eh?

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