revenance_comms | 001 • video

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001 • video

[ The video feed springs up with little to no fuss put into it- benefits of being kind of on board with the futuristic tech train- revealing one more in the line of fully-armored space marines, this one in a stunning shade of ~~not blue~~ ~~blueish~~ ~~teal~~ aqua sort of? His head is tilted a little to one side as he regards the communicator, and after a second of silence to make sure he's getting through, he speaks up. ]

Dude, this is the worst dream I've ever had! [ Yeah, meet Lavernius Tucker. Champion complainer. He's broadcasting genuine frustration and agitation like they're going out of style. ] It's all aliens and backpacks and no hot chicks! And kind of a really bad time for not being able to wake up. If someone needs me to help win a war or go between species for peace or something, you're gonna have to take a number. 'cause no offense, but I'm getting really tired of this plot-twist bullshit! How's a guy supposed to get anything done when this keeps happening? [ This, he follows with a huff before... actually seeming to relax a little more.

He'll just have to... wing it, he guesses. Not like he's really got a choice. After a few moments of silence (while he's busy brooding), Tucker hefts the bag he got on arrival into view. ]

So. I've got this backpack full of stuff to make a little alien and buy stuff and... drink, I guess. I mean, I was pretty focused on keeping the fuck away from the new mysterious alien life form, so I missed a few details. Fool me once, man. Whatever's in the bag, I'll trade for a one-way ticket back to Chorus. Or to being awake or whatever. Ooooor information? Yeah, sure, I mean. That seems like the kind of thing I should ask about. Like, what the fuck is going on around here? What's everyone's deal? Does getting shot wake you up? Because that would be pretty messed up, but I won't rule it out. You know, whoever's up for something like that. I guess I'm not really going anywhere in the meantime. Nothing like being stuck in the middle of nowhere. That's totally never completely backfired on me.

[ He pauses one more time, halfway reaching out to cut the feed and seeming to remember something he's forgotten. ]

Oh, and you can call me Tucker. If you want to remedy the hot chick situation while we're here together, y'know... I won't complain.

[ Maybe lacking some of the usual verve he'd give to matters concerning attractive ladies, but he's got hefty concerns on his shoulders, okay. Sometimes a man has to prioritize. ]

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[Raising an eyebrow behind his helmet.]

That's happened to you before?

[Anyway, back on track.]

Freelancer. Agent North Dakota, but most people just call me North.

What about you?

Riiiiight. Small obstacle. That's why there's been a civil war going for years and years, I guess. The lack of alien princesses with personal grudges to take care of.

Not that my life wouldn't be better with a few of those.

Well, there was this alien quest once... [ He thinks that might count. It was pretty video-gamey. And... productive. Oh, but there it goes. Had to be the F word. In a situation like this, can he really be surprised? Is this some wackbag simulation? Seems kind of overcomplicated, but. ] Okay, so you're a huge asshole. It's good to know that early. I mean, now I can just get it out there that if you're supposed to kill me or drag my team around to help clean up after your messes, you can fuck off. You know, nothing personal. A little friendly advice from your local simulation soldier.

[North is a little taken aback. That was not the reaction he expected, and also a little uncalled for. Sim soldier or no.]

Uh, neither actually. I was honestly just trying to help.

[ i'm really sorry North, he is gunning for asshole olympic gold all over the place today. Tucker's also just a little taken aback, because if he's honest (which he usually is), he was expecting something more... "come say that to my face, moron." Which he wouldn't have, because he values his currently existing existence. ]

Oh. Uhhhh.

[ Honestly just being helpful. Wow, it's like this dude's the polar opposite of Tex and Carolina (except in levels of attractiveness, which he includes on the ladies' front as a default). And not a corny British accent in sight. Sound. Whatever.

And he has to figure, he thinks he would've learned a hard lesson about trusting any old stranger who seems friendly or reasonable by now, Freelancers especially, but he also kind of has to figure for Kimball and Felix, the Lieutenants-- hell, even for Wash. If you can't hang friendship, it's still totally possible to hang a mutually-beneficial agreement sometimes. ]

Seriously?

[He learned from Carolina, okay. Before epic levels of Freelancer bullshit set in, at least.]

[Melody flicks her ears and hisses at the camera again. Seriously, quit yelling at her person! Don't make her come over there.]

I can handle this, Melody.

[She flicks her ears again and meows. Fiiiiiiine. She'll still blow him up if her person wants, though. He just needs to say the word.]

[Wash just folds his arms.]

If I was only looking out for myself, I wouldn't have gone with you when you went to help Carolina and Epsilon. And I'd rather trade myself out than have you and Caboose wind up dead. [Priorities.]

Oh, yeah? [ Oh yeah??? ] Well- well- fuck you! I'm not saying you won this argument just because you're being logical or making sense! I'm pissed off and I'm tired of bullshit detours getting in my way! I need to train a bunch of soldiers so we can rescue you so I can yell at you in real life! Plus Caboose probably just blew up half our guys before I got here. Rebel armies aren't made of soldiers, you know!

[ What he lacks in dignity, grace, tact, and the ability to close his mouth, he... probably just kind of exacerbates with all the honesty, actually. And the ability to bitch about anything. But getting that much out of the system, so to speak, gives him a second to take in a couple of appropriately vicious deep breaths. Ah, yes. How soothing. He still wants to punch someone in the face, but that'll probably just pass.

And he feels like he'd even be less mad if he'd been at the base a few more days before this happened. Then this would be less like jabbing at a bad sunburn with a really pointy spear made of guilt, and more like kind of poking at it a couple days later without any enthusiasm. Is he even actually mad at Wash? ... Well, yeah, kind of. Dramatic sacrifices are stupid. Finally getting stuff almost sorted out and then losing it anyway whether you like it or not is stupid. And this whole trying thing is definitely stupid.

Man, it's no wonder Grif's always sleeping to avoid life. ]

I mean, they are made of soldiers. It's more like rebel armies don't grow on trees.

No problem. Things are easier when people help each other out, right?

[Knowing the Moogles, they could have assumed monsters drop munny when beaten on all worlds and didn't feel it needed mentioning.]

[The benefits of coming from an earlier point on the timeline. Maybe if North had survived Freelancer, he might have a different attitude, but as it stands, he's still trying to be something of a decent human being.]

Seriously. I don't even know who you are.

And I'm not that kind of freelancer.

[There's a bit of a difference in his opinion. Others (wyoming) would probably disagree.]

Doubtless.

[She sounds amused, but she'll take the ego stroking. It's been a rough couple of months here for pony princesses.]

Though I did not intend to kill an entire army. I simply note that your people have no defenses for magic. [Jailbreaks, dear Tucker. They're very easy when you can fly, teleport, and occasionally turn your body into mist.]

No. I'm not kidding, Tucker.

Hello, Tucker. My name is Namine.

[There's a lot she could respond to, here, but she's going to with what she can most obviously help with, first.]

Spirits are Dream Eaters; if you make one they'll help you fight the Nightmares. The munny in the bag should be enough for you to stay a night at the hotel, and the drink is a Potion. It'll heal you if you get hurt.

Uh-huh. Well sorry man, nothing personal? By now whenever I hear freelancer it's just wayyy easier to shoot 'em or to try to lay out some basic no-killing rules. Especially when you've got a bunch of assholes you're supposed to keep alive. [ He's kind of sorry but mostly not sorry, so now he's going to act like he's even half-decent at being casual at the drop of a hat. The Lavernius Tucker story. ] Sooo... North Dakota, huh? Hey, are you guys actually from your states or do you just pick 'em out of a hat?

[ Damn him and his relative calmness. Damn it!! ]

Okay, great, we'll skip that and go right into asking where the hell you've even been! Way to take off on us, asshole!

Yeahhh, that's just because magic's not real. [ Casually as hell. 99% guaranteed that he also shrugged to go with it. ] We're pretty big on the science. Space armor, space ships, the internet, microwave burritos. That kind of thing.

I guess so. I know I've heard a lot of big speeches about teamwork and friendship lately, so there's probably kind of a foundation for it. [ Or something. It seems like they all decide not to do something but get persuaded to do it anyway by a really dramatic speech a lot. ] Been dreaming long, Sora?

[ He's... chilled, just a little bit, since his first ten or fifteen minutes in town. Like, it helped that there were three dudes from the same world that he could yell at in short order. And it helps that there are people (kids, mostly, apparently) phoning in that he doesn't want to do any yelling at.

Oh, things are still pretty insanely frustrating, but Tucker's also pretty positive he's not actually going to punch anything in the immediate future. Which is nice. ]

This place has healing potions? [ He's starting to see the video game thing North Dakota was talking about, yeah. ] That's some pretty advanced stuff for a magic dream town.

You are trapped in a dream with technicolored pets built from small pieces of gelatin, but magic is not real.

[Definitely amused now.]

Well, I know a few of them can give off that vibe, but I'm not one of them.

[At least, he tries not to be. And no one's really tried his patience in that regard. Still, he'll be watching what he says. And bugging Wash.]

I think it's just random, actually. I never really asked.

...

I have no idea what you're talking about? I've been here for a while. And to make it worse, this place is messy regarding timelines.

It's been... months. I haven't really been keeping track of time, but it has been a while.

[Namine is starting to notice some of those other conversations. Not that she'll allude to them; they seem private. Tucker wouldn't be the first new arrival in a bad mood, but he was one of the more vocal. At least now he seems to have calmed a little.

His surprise regarding the potions doesn't phase Namine. She's used to new arrivals that aren't used to them.]

Yes, you could call them that. I'm not sure how they're made, but the Moogles sell them.

[Rebel armies aren't made of- yeah, okay, he's just gonna let that one sink in for a few moments. Way to be, Tucker. Way to be.]

If it's any consolation, you'll wake up on Chorus at about the same time you left. Time doesn't really pass in the real world while we're here.

Where are you?

[Yeah, it's another kid. At least this one looks old enough to be out of diapers, and that look in his eyes... yeah, possible Child Soldier material here.]

You think it's bad now, wait til the big Nightmares show up. Most of us have nearly had our tickets punched by those at least once, and last time there were five of them.

[Soma is amused by your flailing, Tucker. For a guy in hyperadvanced plate armor, you're one hell of a spaz.]

Everyone else seems to have covered the usual bases. There's an information packet floating around on the network somewhere about the Nightmares; someone else will have to dig it up for you, I seem to have lost my copy.

[ Dreamworld is swimming in children. He's not sure what that's all about. ]

I like to pass on ticket-punches at every available opportunity, yeah. But I'm down for an information packet. I'll go digging myself if I have to. Whatever makes all this crap make sense.

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