bird dave (
feathery) wrote in
driftfleet2016-04-13 08:05 am
Entry tags:
004 ↯ audio
Who: Davesprite and whoever.
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: Indoors, moonside.
When: Now sounds good.
[Someone is done to death with masks and getting accosted by randos on the street. Thus, Davesprite has taken refuge indoors, since that's as good as it gets short of returning to the ships. He'd normally opt for text, but he honestly just wants to talk for a while. Even if his voice is equal parts bored and sullen.]
Sportball ambushes on the street are great and all, [it probably isn't possible for him to sound more sarcastic] but I got to ponder the selection happening in this contaminated stain on the face of space. Like, sure, there are "strategy games" [yes, those are actual, audible air quotes], but where my real battles at. You know, the wordplay variety, where you drop a witticism to a sick beat and slant it to rhyme. Twist that shit into ill verse and cause some deadly delirium not even the most decorated doctor could cure. Dude could be veteran to World War Disease and still find himself stymied by this nasty flow that makes even the gutsiest guerilla fold. Ain't a medic around who can mend my rap battle burns.
[A beat.]
So, yeah, maybe I'm only pissed about moon pollution central 'cause all these hostile idiots keep hailing me out of the blue and yet: not a single fuckin' rap battle. [This is definitely not the only reason he's pissed about moon pollution central, but priorities.] What's a guy got to do, besides deck himself out in a shitty respirator and biohazard costume. A live performance? God, this is stupid.
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: Indoors, moonside.
When: Now sounds good.
[Someone is done to death with masks and getting accosted by randos on the street. Thus, Davesprite has taken refuge indoors, since that's as good as it gets short of returning to the ships. He'd normally opt for text, but he honestly just wants to talk for a while. Even if his voice is equal parts bored and sullen.]
Sportball ambushes on the street are great and all, [it probably isn't possible for him to sound more sarcastic] but I got to ponder the selection happening in this contaminated stain on the face of space. Like, sure, there are "strategy games" [yes, those are actual, audible air quotes], but where my real battles at. You know, the wordplay variety, where you drop a witticism to a sick beat and slant it to rhyme. Twist that shit into ill verse and cause some deadly delirium not even the most decorated doctor could cure. Dude could be veteran to World War Disease and still find himself stymied by this nasty flow that makes even the gutsiest guerilla fold. Ain't a medic around who can mend my rap battle burns.
[A beat.]
So, yeah, maybe I'm only pissed about moon pollution central 'cause all these hostile idiots keep hailing me out of the blue and yet: not a single fuckin' rap battle. [This is definitely not the only reason he's pissed about moon pollution central, but priorities.] What's a guy got to do, besides deck himself out in a shitty respirator and biohazard costume. A live performance? God, this is stupid.

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[ He's not too put off about the food being alien, after all, as he takes another bite. ] We should get more. Stock up. The other planet's stuff wasn't this good. Had better pizza though.
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[He climbs to his feet, grimacing a bit at the mention of the pizza.]
But sure. How hard did your account get hit after the gumball fiasco. I'm starting to run a little low.
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[ So really, why were they shipping gumballs anyway? ] I haven't really spent much here, though. Stayed on the ship. I'll buy us some this time.
[ He stands, stretching his arms over his head. ] You'll have to hide them in your room. Stupid Newton will find them in mine.
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[He idly starts his way down the hall, heading towards a lift. At least the concept of department stores and malls hasn't died out in the presumed future.]
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[ It was a while ago but he still resents that, okay? Well, not really, but he has to complain about something. ]
I think chocolate can hurt dogs, too. And that stuff was basically space chocolate. Alien chocolate.
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[Giving you a sidelong look, bro.]
Chocolate isn't a key ingredient to werewolf poison or something, is it.
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[ He doesn't even realize the mistake he's made. Isaac tries so hard, but he's not always the sharpest tool in the shed. ]
And no, I'm too human for chocolate to poison. Mistletoe and wolfsbane suck, though. Seriously.
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[Davesprite just shrugs and goes back to eating his chocolate bar. Maybe he'd worry more about it possibly being toxic if he digested food in the first place.]
Mistletoe, though. What, are you allergic to kissing? [His tone turns mocking before he can even think to help it.]
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[ Word vomit, thy name be Isaac Lahey. ]
If we ingest mistletoe or whatever, it can cause hallucinations and make us weaker. It can kill us, too, but. I thought I was in a freezer once when I was actually under a shitty motel bed.
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[That's all Davesprite has to say to that first part.
More importantly:]
Why were you under a shitty motel bed. [Because that's weird.]
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[ So their adult chaperone stopped at the creepy MOTEL CALIFORNIA~ and let them room up. ]
Someone put wolfsbane in the coach's whistle, so it got weird.
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[He isn't sure if he should be admiring, disturbed, or derisive.]
How the hell did you end up eating mistletoe.
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[ He frowns, shaking his head and even subconsciously rubs at his throat. ]
A dude back home had to dig them out of our throats. Ugh.
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That's...pretty gross.
[A beat.]
A mind-controlling fly. Seriously? [Why do all of his friends keep getting mind-controlled? Shit.]
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[ But isn't that every story of his? 'I almost died' or 'I almost killed someone'. Isaac's life is complicated. ]
Sometimes I think I want to go back, and sometimes I don't. Because of things like that.
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[Like there's a big difference between almost dying and actually dying.
...What a conversation to have while waiting for an elevator.]
But I get that. I wouldn't go back to Asgard, if I had a choice.
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[ Captain Obvious is just gonna repeat what his best friend just told him. Isaac means well, but his head is a little frazzled still, even now. ]
Yeah? I don't know much about it, other than what you've told me, but it seems like a pretty weird place.
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[Davesprite just hated it by the end, that's all. Personal bias.]
Seemed like you got along pretty well there, too. [Uh.] Mostly.
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[ God, this is fucking weird. ]
I still don't get that. Like, okay so I was kidnapped onto a space ship here, but if I was there too, I should remember it. It was still me. You didn't wipe my memory in some weird evil plot or something did you?
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[It's definitely a little less joking and a little more defensive—unhappy, really—than it should be. But he gets his knee-jerk reaction under control, just a couple seconds too late.
He lets out a huff of a sigh through his nose and looks away, crossing his arms.]
I don't know how it works, dude. I'm not supposed to remember a bunch of gods put me through the Norse mythology wringer, either.
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The huff, however, does not go unnoticed. Isaac gives him a confused look. ]
Yeah, well, you do. And whatever, we're friends here now, too, so it doesn't matter if I don't remember that stuff.
[ Maybe, but it is still pretty weird that Davesprite knew him before. That it could have been another version of him altogether. ]
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Davesprite doesn't say anything for a moment, just pushes the button for a new floor, and the silence lasts almost long enough to seem like he's dropped the subject.]
It still bugs you, right. [It's a little sudden, enough to nearly seem off topic.] Even if you say it doesn't matter, Asgard sums up to like. Months that didn't happen for you, whether because you forgot or it's all horseshit from your future. [In which case, Isaac forgets everything he knows now and there's no real solace in that, but whatever.] Or maybe it straight up never happened to you and never will.
[Davesprite himself doesn't know how to bridge the fact that everything he's lived in the last couple years isn't going to make any fucking difference to who he is or is supposed to be, in the end. It's just a foregone conclusion he forgets, or he's a doomed offshoot of a doomed offshoot. That's the reality of it.
A part of him thinks being a doomed offshoot would be better. At least he's used to that. At least he still gets to exist.]
Like. That's kind of fucked up, isn't it.
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[ He steps up onto the elevator, punches a button for where they need to go. Isaac kind of stares at Davesprite as his friend talks, trying to catch up with his thoughts. ]
I guess it is, yeah. I mean if you knew me there, I should remember it. I guess that means I'll just forget all of this whenever I get sent back home. Did you just come from Asgard to here?
[ Isaac hadn't put much thought into any of this, just chalked it up to weird space things, but what if he really did forget? He knew Davesprite before and now just can't remember, no matter how hard he tries. ]
I don't want to forget some of this stuff.
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[He rubs the bridge of his nose, looks down at the floor, and leans against one of the elevator rails.]
But I guess so. I'd say I don't remember anything else, but that obviously means fuck all. But no one here has met...uh. Me. This specific iteration of me, as far as I know, and we've got like a dozen different interdimensional hubs in representation. And I'm kind of memorable looking.
[He tugs the edge of a wing in sour emphasis.]
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[ Big words will confuse him, Davesprite, tread lightly. ] So there could be another 'me' walking around then? I guess it makes sense but that's pretty freaking weird. To know there are a bunch of mes walking around, ones you have met before.
[ He shakes his head a little bit, frowning as the elevator signals their arrival. He steps out and starts down the corridor. ] So it's either stay here forever and remember my best friend, or go back and forget any of this even happened. That's really messed up. I don't like it.
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