revenance_comms | 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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[There are so, so many things he could say. So many things. For now, he'll go with this one:]

Getting shot does not wake you up. Trust me on that one.

[Translation: holy shit you're alive]

[ Oh, Wash is saying a thing. Better follow his instincts. ]

Pff. Yeah, I bet you'd know that firsthan-- [ And an abrupt stop, because there you go, Tucker, record realization time. By Caboose's standards. This is definitively not supposed to be possible right now. It was this whole big thing. They've been training a fucking army because it was a whole big thing. ] Wait. Wash?

Actually, I do. [Shot, stabbed, electrocuted, tackled, sat on by a fucking Meowjesty...if physical harm were a ticket to the waking world, Wash wouldn't have been stuck here for months on end.]

[And yet, here he is.]

[Aaaaaaaand there's the realization. He's disappointed in your reaction time, Tucker.]

Yeah. Turns out physical location doesn't matter when you're all stuck in the same dream.

Grif told me you're a captain now. [Let's just test the waters on this one, shall we?]

[ Sorry bro, been too preoccupied with avoiding another alien pregnancy for reaction times. ]

That's it? The first thing you do is bring up Grif? [ Of course, he does do a lot more dreaming than most people, so... somehow, it's less surprising than it should be that he's been here to run his mouth. Also, Wash just reminded him that the waters are there to test. They're lukewarm, but mildly volatile, and a little high in their sarcasm levels. ] Well hi to you, too, asshole! Oh, I'm totally great, how are you? I hear nice things about the Federal prisons at this time of year.

[Well, Tucker's well enough physically to bitch about everything; Wash is going to take that as a plus for as long as his patience lasts.]

[Probably not gonna be long. Like at all.]

Oh, is that where I am? Because the last thing I remember is collapsing that tunnel. Good to know you got out the other end. [There's an edge of sarcasm there, yeah, but for the most part that's the truth.]

[Melody the Necho Cat has decided that she does not like this new person's tone and leaps up onto Wash's shoulder, all the better to see the communicator and scold it. Hey! Quit being a jerk to her person!]

[ Oh, man, he gets an alien cat to defend him? That's so not fair! It's almost like they're given the parts to make these things because they can be useful and faithful companions.

He's putting a pin in that for later. Maybe the cons of being responsible for more living things could be outweighed by having something to help him argue. So yeah, Tucker kind of stumbles on his momentum when Melody pops up, which... sort of kind of puts a damper on the hostility. He's still mad, but he kind of knows it's not strictly because he's mad at Wash, per se. Or he kind of is. Look, ten minutes ago, all he had to immediately worry about was the fact that some dumbass handed Caboose a grenade again. Now he's just really confused. ]

Yeah, thanks for that. I especially liked the big flowery speech about how our friend abandoned us before you decided to do the same thing. What's the point of all those drills if you can't even get up and run towards a fucking cave? [ Lavernius Tucker's guide to gratitude: displace all of your issues onto one singular issue whether it's correct or not, be mad about it instead of saying a sincere thank you, ??????, profit. This is why you're an asshole, Tucker. Never question it. ] Now we have to train an army full of idiots who all think we're real soldiers, so we can maybe go in and rescue our idiot friends sometime this century and maybe win a war. Nothing says victory like me, Caboose, Grif and Simmons being in charge of people. That's why we all had such great military careers!

[ He missed you, Wash, I swear. ]

[Oh, it's not all it's cracked up to be. That makes itself pretty obvious when Fang the Komory Bat decides it's cuddle time - Melody's doing it, right? - and flies up to land on Wash's other shoulder and nuzzle against his helmet, squeaking all the while. Oh man he loves cuddle time! Cuddle time is his favorite!]

[Wash just gives a long-suffering sigh. Yeah, pets are great. Thank goodness Carmen's not here right now.]

I put my team ahead of myself. It's what you're supposed to do when you're responsible for other people's lives. [HINT. HINT.]

Uuugh, that's such bullshit. [ You and your animals and your- your "Freckles, shake." He has definitely not been worried, though. At all. What the fuck is with Blue Team going to shit all the time, anyway? Should he just join the Reds after they bust everyone out? ] I say we needed a self-sacrificing, responsible douchebag about as much as we needed a drill sergeant. So next time just be an asshole who's only looking out for himself and stick to your friends instead of trading yourself out! I don't think that's too much to ask out of a leader.

[ Yeah Wash stop with the... caring. Yeah. ]

[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.

[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?

That's... kind of a consolation, I guess. Better than nothing. [ Wake up, get back to work. Sure. He'll take it. ] And apparently I'm in Traverse Town? That's what the welcome party called it. As good as I am at avoiding new alien life, I still kinda needed the answer to "where the fuck am I" eventually.

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