bird dave (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
feathery) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
driftfleet2016-04-13 08:05 am
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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[It's burnt out. And he's tired, so fucking tired, of Sburb, of the multiverse, of himself. Of thinking about how every single right or wrong choice he's made had to happen so real Dave could do what had to be done, that the only reason he fucking exists is as a stepping stone to some guy he doesn't want to be.
He looks around. There are two doors, one leading to a staircase and another to the main area of the floor. He doesn't even want to deal with the choice involved with that or turning back around, not right now. Kind of hard to want to deal with it when his choices have only ever felt like dead ends, just facsimiles of something real.
He drops his hand.]
Whatever, I hope Atroma got a good laugh out of that if they're really pushing the reality TV angle. [The thought makes him feel sick, whether it's anger or helplessness or the candy he ate earlier. He's putting his bets on the candy.] Fuckers.
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[ He doesn't swear like that much -- doesn't really see a need with his already limited vocabulary. But Isaac is angry for Davesprite -- of course all of this is gonna be aired to whatever weird space folk are watching their weird TV show.
Isaac is just as tired of this place, in a weird way. He doesn't quite know if he's ready to go back home and face a new place, or if he's ready to stay here, either. He hadn't given it much thought before, but being on the moon has made him more antsy than normal, has made his whole body and mind feel just left of center and it's wearing him down. Isaac starts them toward the open floor -- there will be shops there, at least. May as well get some candy while they're here. That is what they came for, right? (Someone totally did not get the threads mixed up). ]
I'm not very good at this stuff, but if there was a way to get you off this ship I'd figure it out. But I'm pretty sure there isn't yet. We're gonna have to sit on our hands and wait t his out, whether we like it or not. May as well raise hell while we're here. Better than sitting here and letting them pick at us, I guess.
[ Isaac shrugs, looking over his shoulder at Davesprite. ] So it just fucking sucks, all of it, and I don't really get what happened back at your home world or whatever. I hardly get what's happening in mine, but I dunno. You're pretty cool, Bird Dave. Er. Davesprite, right? That just sounds weird. But Dave is that weird normal asshole right? Fuck that guy, too.
[ Isaac is weirdly tired, too, like he didn't register the lowkey fatigue he's been fighting off the whole time here. The irritation shows through, though, rearing its head in every instance of the word 'fuck'. What a great way to expel anger in four letters and one syllable. ]
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[Davesprite appreciates it, he really does, but he still balks at how easily Isaac commiserates with him. He's pretty sure he doesn't deserve it.]
You've got your own problems, dude. I'll be fine; it's nothing that's going to kill me. Not here, anyway.
[It just makes him wish he were dead. That's all.]
And don't worry about it. I don't really care what anyone calls me.
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[ He frowns, clenching his hands into fists in his pockets. It's much easier to get angry here, to feel the weird swell in his chest, the way his mind does a little flip flop between human and rage-wolf. Yeah, not a good time to get pissed. So he takes a deep breath or two, calming down a little.
God, he hates his place. ]
Really? You don't care? [ Isaac looks at Davesprite incredulously. Challenge accepted, dude. ]
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Can't be worse than anything I've been called.
[Are you ready to challenge John Egbert to a mean nicknames competition, Isaac.]
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[ Though if they're really gonna do this he'll have to brainstorm. He's not very good at making up names (or anything) on the spot, okay? ]
But I guess you're safe for now. I don't feel like making any up. It'd be too easy -- there are too many good ones.
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Smooth, dude. I don't care if you keep calling me what you already call me, alright. I'm not even sure what I'm supposed to call myself. Future Dave? Orange Dave? Those were all candidates at one point or another, even if none of them are accurate besides Bird Dave no more.
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[ Isaac doesn't really care either way. He's not even sure he uses Davesprite's name enough for it to matter all that much to him, anyway. It's usually a text message or banging on the wall that Isaac uses to get his friend's attention. ]
Maybe I'll call you Space Bird. Because you're a bird dude in space. [ He worked pretty hard for that, okay. ]
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[But Isaac's attempted nickname gets a slight, fairly good-natured eye roll out of him, something more akin to his usual behavior.]
You had a reference to Space Ghost Coast to Coast floating right in front of you, inches from your face, and you still blew it. You can't take that one back, dude.
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[ Isaac makes a face at Davesprite. ] Seriously, I'm not gonna call you Space Ghost. I don't want to find you bald and wearing spandex or something okay, that'd be weird. I don't need anymore nightmares, thanks.
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[Really, he gives Isaac his friendship and this is what he gets in return?]
But you're in luck, 'cause I never wanted to be a superhero, anyway.
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[ Isaac shakes his head, and pulls his hands out of his pockets to stretch. He didn't realize how tense he'd become. ] You're a bad liar, you totally want a cape. Rapping Super Bird.
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No thanks. I'd look even dumber than I do already. [Dave is the one who wears the cape, who gets to play hero, even if Davesprite thinks both of them are fucking terrible at it. It's not a lie he wants any part of.]
Come on. I thought we came here for candy.
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[ No, really, at least Davesprite looks like he's just wearing a Hot Topic special or something. Isaac's face when he's transformed just looks busted. Even he knows it. ]
Yeah, candy sounds good right now. There's a shop just up there. [ And of course it can't just be a normal candy shop like back home. There are alien images, even some candies that move or have something alive in side them. At least that's all Isaac sees in the window. ] Get in, get the chocolate stuff, and get out. Pretty sure I don't wanna browse.
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[He waves a dismissive hand at Isaac's face, before he gets distracted by the window. He looks way more interested in the moving candies than he should be, with an avian tilt to his head.
It takes him a minute to get that impulse under control and he makes a disgusted sound, covering his mouth.]
God, yeah. Let's just get this over with.
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[ Isaac is only moderately disturbed by his friend's fascination with the moving candy so he reaches out and grabs his sleeve, hauling him away if he has to. ] Let's stay focused on the chocolate. [ Not the worms. ]
What flavor do you want? I can't read any of that but there's pink, green and just... chocolate. I hope.
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[He says this immediately, tugged along behind Isaac with moderate obedience.]
You got wolf senses; you should know if it's really shit.
[It could always be compacted shit.]
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[ But he can smell the weird alien sugar in it, or whatever aliens put in their candy. Who knows. He picks up a few bar and literally lifts them to his nose, smelling them. (More like breathing them in, let's be real). ]
I mean, they smell okay. Might as well try them. I don't think they're that expensive. [ So he grabs a few and when he's checking out? Well, the alien behind the counter talks him into buying a goodie bag of candy -- but what candy is in the mystery bag? Who knows. ]
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He filches the goodie bag off Isaac almost immediately, whether he likes it or not, and peers inside.]
Fuck!
[He nearly drops the bag and shoves it back at Isaac.
The bag is almost entirely normal. In fact, when Isaac looks inside, he might not know what the fuck Davesprite is freaking out about at first. But snuggled beneath all of the normal candy is a big, fat, juicy larva with candy-colored spots. Its little legs wiggle and grasp at its breathable packaging. If it weren't a plump invertebrate, it would probably be cute. tbh, there are probably people who find it downright adorable in its natural state. One of them might raise it to become a beautiful alien butterfly or whatever it pupates into.
Davesprite just wants to eat it instead and is not ok with that.]
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[ Isaac isn't sure how to react, half managing the bag of perfectly normal candy and now nearly dropping this other bag on the floor. He shifts it around to peer inside and he lets out a groan immediately. ]
Oh come on. She said there wasn't anything living in them, what the heck. [ It's gross, too, wiggling legs and little plump body. He almost gags when he shuts the bag. ]
Dude we'll give it to someone else, one of these alien people are gonna want it I bet. Then we can have the normal candy, okay? Maybe you should go outside. [ Because if Davesprite looks at the bag again the way he had been, Isaac might actually throw up in his mouth a little. He is not gonna let his best friend eat a candy maggot. ]
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I'm fine. It's cool, I'm good.
[He really isn't, but there isn't much else for him to do besides pretend he's fine.]
Just—keep it over there. [He motions away from him. How specific.] God, why do they have so many fucking bugs on the menu.
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[ Isaac idly looks around for a trash can or compactor or something. When he finally finds one, he stuffs the bag in it. It hadn't cost that much, and he'd much rather throw it away than chance his friend vomiting or eating bugs. ]
I don't know, it's a moon. Like why do they think bugs are good candy. They're not. That's -- I hate space. [ He groans at the thought, but shortly after? Offers Dave a chocolate bar. ] Eat it. Normal chocolate, bug free.
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He takes the chocolate bar, malcontent.]
Whatever, it's only a month max. [HAHA THEY WISH.] But I'm kinda not feeling the local flavor. Are there any vegan restaurants. Those were all the rage on Earth, right.
[Davesprite, stop talking about Earth in the past tense...]
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[ He's only seen them in select places, but when the place says they serve bugs, man do they serve bugs. ]
But yeah, they are I guess. Especially in California. Vegan, gluten-free, froyo... all the fads in America.
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[He says like he ever appreciated that. Or was given the opportunity to appreciate it.]
Mostly it was just really fucking hot. Hot enough to broil your backside like a burger on a patch of tarmac. I swear that shit bubbled some days.
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