exsilium | 02; Video/Action

All this shit is pretty above my pay grade, so it's not like I'm speaking from experience here or anything, but it seems like we got a crazy ass mix of folks around here. I don't think I've ever seen so many aliens in m life and I come from a world where those guys are all over the freakin' place.

Though I gotta say, it's freakin' weird to be around a bunch of people who've never heard of Kryptonians before. [Just. Throwing that word out there. Vaguely hopeful.]

Anyway. It's late, I'm bored. We've got a shit load of aliens and sword and sorcery types up in here. Tell me somethin' good about your world. Or tell me something shitty, we can swap horror stories.

[It's late at night, which means it's time for punks in masks asking bullshit questions on the network to keep themselves from broody navel gazing. Not sleeping is kind of a thing for him, but this not brutalizing strangers who really deserve it thing is kinda new and borderline unpleasant. Feel free to spot a brightly colored spot skulking around rooftops.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Nothing.

I also heard you can take care of yourself.

You heard right. Gotta problem with it?

No.

I'm just not sure if anyone can.

What, take care of themselves?

Hey, Barnes, if you were feelin' down you just gotta say something about it. I've totally got practice at this uplifting speech shit.

[deflecting nbd.]

Hah ha, very funny.

Hey, it's what I do.

Something tells me you're not half as good at the gung-ho speech as you are at skipping out of questions.

My gung-ho speeches usually involve punching things. And you haven't really been askin' any questions, chum.

Because I don't need to know what you don't wanna tell me.

[...Oh. Well.]

I might enjoy being an asshole. Might not always know how not to be one.

Just. Ya know. Putting that out there.

[ Awkwardest shift.]

Anyway. If I don't want you to know somethin', I won't tell you it. That simple.

That's how it usually works, kid.

Yeah, well. We're friends, you're allowed ask things.

[Awkwardest pause.]

Or, ya know, comrades or whatever.

Comrades, huh? [ He laughs at that, maybe a bit darkly, but doesn't explain. ]

What? [ He has no problem asking questions.]

Nothing.

[ No problem avoiding answers. ]

Whatever, man.

So, you goin' to that dance thing?

Yeah, just what I need. To get all dressed up.

Lemme guess. A tuxedo killed your parents.

Yeah, kid. That's it exactly.

Figured. You got that haunted look that says I've seen some tailor-fitted blood shed.

Anyway, I don't think there's gonna be a real strict dress code.

It's not the dress code, it's—

[ And then he catches himself, and he's smiling. ]

Jeez.

[Smiling basically means Jason wins.]

What, gramps, you worried you're not gonna know how to boogie with all the hip young kids? You just gotta have some confidence, man.

No. I can dance. [ He's not lacking in confidence, k. ]

I just— [He thought of Steve, how he'd always want to spend the nights hunched up over maps, pouring every minute into lines, plans of attack, the war. The men they were serving with. And how Bucky thought that made him into a real wet blanket. He'd always wanted Steve to have a bit more fun.

It carried him back.]

You reminded me of something.

Yeah? Somethin' good?

Just that I used to be a punk kid, too.

(no subject)

livinuptothename - 2012-11-30 03:43 (UTC) - Expand