video | dated at the very end of week one

[fuck1ngusernam3]

[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.]

Comments

[fuck1ngusernam3]

Why?

[He leans back, raising his eyebrows with a smile that's mostly amused, actually a little bit wary.]

If you're about to tell me there's an actual prophecy I'm gonna scream, and probably sic Sumo on you.

[He considers his dog.]

If you're willing to stay in one place for like, twenty minutes, I might be able to get him to roll over on your foot. So. Careful what you say.

[fairysong]

[Again, a laugh.] I just wanted to make sure I had your name correct from earlier. That's all.

Sheryl. In case you need a name for your dog to go after.

[fuck1ngusernam3]

I’ll let him know.

[He pats Sumo’s side, listening to the dog heave a sigh. There won’t be much going after anyone for this guy.]

Sheryl. That your stage name too? I mean, it’s nice and everything, but it doesn’t feel very... popstar-y.

[fairysong]

You must not be imagining it right. Think of it written in huge, glowing, cursive font. Sheryl. [Making a little rainbow gesture with her hands in front of her.]

They called me the Galactic Fairy, too, but really-- ask anyone from Eden to Earth if they know who Sheryl is, and that's all you need.

[fuck1ngusernam3]

Huh.

[He thinks this over.]

You know I can't ask any of those people, right? The fairy thing's showier, but... Maybe I've just been paying attention to the wrong kind of music. Or maybe it does look better up in lights.

[fairysong]

I know. You'll just have to take my word for it! [She says, cheerfully.]

Maybe you're just not used to the world I come from. Say, what year is it for you, anyway? Back home, I mean.

[fuck1ngusernam3]

Uh. This is going to get weird, isn't it? With all the time bullshit.

[He sighs.]

Twenty thirty-eight. If you even use the same time system in, you know, your cross galactic... whatever. I don't know. That sound familiar to you?

[fairysong]

2038? [That's interesting, and it makes her pause for a moment.] You're the second person I've met from that year. Do you know Connor? Nice young man, a little stiff.

It's 2059 for me. I've got you beat by a few decades.

[fuck1ngusernam3]

[Hank looks surprised for a second, then his lips twist up in an awkward little look.]

Uh. Yeah. Yeah I uh, guess that kind of sounds like the Connor I know. I kind of expected you to say something like, a couple hundred years in the future though. We must really be from different, uh, Earths, cause I don’t see mine getting its shit together quick enough to do that kind of space travel in my lifetime. That is what you said right, you guys dobthe hardcore space travel thing? Unless that ‘galactic’ nickname was just hyperbole?

[fairysong]

I think it's the same Earth, but maybe a different timeline? I'm not sure how any of it works, to be honest.

Connor said you didn't have contact with aliens around the turn of the millennium, so that'd probably explain it. And yes, we do the "hardcore space travel thing." I've spent most of my life on the Macross colony fleets.

[fuck1ngusernam3]

Yeah, you mentioned fleets. And oxygen masks, and uh, pills, maybe.

[And that's just the stuff that stood out to him. He thinks over it.]

I guess after growing up with all that, being on a real planet would make being sick as fuck feel kind of worth it.

[And now, a million years later, he caves to her original point. He just had to come around to it.]

[fairysong]

[There's a very, very subtle tightening of her jawline at the mention of pills, but she's good enough not to let it bleed into the rest of her expression.] I might've given you a bad impression of them at the start of the conversation. Like I said, there was a war going on, so things were a little... rough.

But the colony ships are really quite nice. They're gigantic-- the size of a city-- and they've got pretty much anything you'd ever want. Parks, rivers, shopping centers, concert halls, simulated skyscapes. People live entire lives on them just fine.

Until you're flying right up next to the canopy, the sky feels real.

[fuck1ngusernam3]

Huh. [He takes a second, trying to imagine that.] That makes sense, if people are spending their whole lives in there. Is that just because you're going so far, or did something happen to the Earth? They've sent people for couple year missions where I'm from but no one's ever seriously planned for multi-generational stuff, except religious nuts and people freaking out about overpopulation.

[fairysong]

A little bit of both. About half the population of Earth died in the first space war, but after peace with the Zentradi, it made sense to use all the new alien technology to explore as much of the galaxy as we could.

[fuck1ngusernam3]

Yeah, see, that’s... That’s so far beyond anything I’d hear about in dinky little twenty thirty-eight. I don’t want to be a dick about it because all those people died, but space wars and zen-trady and, you know, all that, I just can’t make it feel real to me.

[fairysong]

I guess I can't really blame you for that. It's a pretty crazy story, even if it's just history to me.

Here's a simple version: Giant aliens discover Earth, start a war because they think we're someone else. Lots of people die. The war ends in a peace treaty, and humans use their new alien technology-- and new alien allies-- to explore the galaxy because that's just the sort of irritating dreamers we are.

[fuck1ngusernam3]

Dreamers?

[Okay, he does have questions, or at least one question - Giants? Really? 'Giant' makes him think 'like the BFG' but you know what, that's probably not accurate - but that word sort of takes precedence, and Hank sounds amused when he repeats it.]

That really the word you meant to use?

[fairysong]

Sure. Why wouldn't it be?

Think about it-- "I wonder what's around that next hill." "I wonder what's on the other side of this ocean." "There's probably something amazing on the next planet we come across." "We just need to push through all of this hardship, and it'll be better once we do."

Humans are dreamers. It's our best and our most irritating quality.

[fuck1ngusernam3]

Humans are idiots. It's pretty much our only quality.

[He watches the screen, still amused, kind of wry, thoughtful. It's not like he wants to convince her to think like him - god, fuck no - but he's not going to let shit like that get by totally unchallenged.]

You know what probably drove us to explore the stars? Nosiness. I bet humans are the only species that's just got to be up in everyone else's business, colonizing their planets, butting into alien shit. You're telling me that's not how it goes down?

[fairysong]

[Sheryl laughs, again. Her expression and voice are a little more wry when she answers.] What's the difference?

[fuck1ngusernam3]

[Hank huffs, amused.]

What, so you're saying humans are dreamers cause we're all dreaming of getting into other people's shit? Snooping our way through the stars? How's that supposed to be inspiring?

[fairysong]

If it weren't for nosy people wondering what's up with that tribe across the river, we'd still be living in caves. Oh, hey, they're doing this interesting thing where they bonk rocks together in rhythm. Let's start doing that, too. And now you're creating culture.

Things don't change that much when you're crossing rivers, or oceans, or Fold space.

[fuck1ngusernam3]

Or maybe if they'd let the tribe across the river bang their rocks in peace [Don't think too hard about that phrasing,] the world would be a better place.

[He shrugs.]

You're right, though. Fold up all the space you want, people will still be the same. I guess it's just whether that's a good thing that we don't agree on.

[fairysong]

You really are a masterful cynic, aren't you?

[fuck1ngusernam3]

Oh, hey. [He smiles wide, bowing his head toward the screen.] Thanks. I put a lotta time and effort into it. Nice of you to recognize expertise even if it's in an area you might not be so good at.