lieutenantantichrist | [8] Video/Action for Goldenrod, backdated to around the 9th

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[8] Video/Action for Goldenrod, backdated to around the 9th

[Jail is fucking boring.]

[They'd stuck Blake in a cell for a while until they figured out something about community service. It was a lot faster than back in the real world, but even crazy bullshit island has red tape. Blake's not sure whether that's nostalgic or not.]

[Cells are the same everywhere, too. He's never been on this side before. The novelty wears off fast.]

[He wishes he had a ball to bounce against the wall or something. They didn't even leave him any of his animals for company. Maybe that's a good thing. He doesn't know how he's going to explain this to Steve.]

[There's nothing but a book, and there's only so much anybody can take of The Dratini Code.]

[Blake leans back on the hard bunk and tosses his phone in one hand. When he got in here the one thing he was sure of was that he didn't want to talk to anybody, but nothing weakens that conviction like a couple hours alone with the hot, uneasy feeling in the back of his head.]

[He flips the phone open before he can think about it too much and says the first thing that comes to mind.]

[The face that comes up on the screen will look a lot less combative and more withdrawn than usual.]

Hey.

You think they have the Shawshank Redemption around here?

Maybe with one of those stupid puns in the title, and he digs his way out with one of those mole things. A little tiny one for finding rocks.

Seems like everything around here is like back home but turned the local kind of stupid. Do they even make any real original movies?

[In the crappy florescent lights shared by jails everywhere, the lines on his face look deep and weathered.]

I'm tired of nothing but the same old thing.

((OOC: Open for calls and visitors! Blake's in jail for punching Parker, but you don't have to broach the topic if you don't want to. He's not real proud of himself, so he'll pussyfoot around it unless asked directly. If you definitely don't want it to come up, just put in an OOC note.))

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Guess that proves their authenticity, then.

[He frowns at that display. Definitely a story there, and definitely one he wouldn't like.]

...Yours isn't there at the moment, right?

[Just checking.]

No. If he was, he'd be dead. [Just a hint of a deep, deep rage flickers over his face, not his usual impulsive anger but the kind of hatred that sinks to the bone and lasts a lifetime.] I'd find a way.

[On a hunch, going by the way Ash's voice hints at personal experience] Yours?

...Ever wondered how a one-in-a-million sicko would turn out if he had complete control over millions of fanatically devoted people, a technologically-superior army and a grand plan to create a new master human race?

[Not that Ezelcant had been his sicko, really. But between Kio and Zeheart, it kind of had become personal in the end.]

Jesus fuck.

[He's seen the kind of thing one dedicated psycho can do without much exceptional in the way of resources.]

[He's about to sink into brooding, but hearing somebody else's problems makes him take a swerve]

You have Space Hitler?

Yeah, except with a better army and a looser grasp of darwinism. But if he showed up here he'd be nothing more than a dying old man with no support, at least. As harmless as a man like that can get. Doesn't sound like that's the case with yours.

[Blake meditates on that and can only offer] Fuck.

So that's who all the giant robots are for fighting. Must be a convincing son of a bitch if he got that many people behind him.

[He remember Ash saying something about a war when they were in a bar somewhere...when was that? If he thinks about it too hard he gets the feeling of an immense, hulking shape looming above him, so he gives up on trying to pinpoint it.]

[He picks at his sleeve.] Mine's dead. I don't know whether to thank Jayden or hate him for stealing the privilege.

Desperate people are willing to believe anyone, if there's a chance it'll improve their conditions.

[Coming from most, those words could sound very judgemental.

Coming from Ash, they just sound sad.]

I doubt anyone would blame you for switching between the two as you want.

Damn. How lousy can the future get?

[Blake's glad he doesn't quite believe. Sure as hell can't see his world getting there.]

Somebody had to kill the son of a bitch.

Hell. I guess you could say he earned it. I didn't.

[He let it go by right under his nose, because it was something he didn't want to see.]

As lousy as people can make it. There are a few that put a lot of effort in it.

[Good thing many of them are dead by now.]

The important part is that somebody did, I guess. Some people just can't be stopped any other way.

Always are.

Figures that going to the stars and screwing green ladies hasn't changed people that much.

[Blake's face gets distant.]

Yeah.

The true, crazy fucks never give up.

The sad thing is, that's why that madman went on his people-testing, unworthy-killing spree in the first place.

[He just went about it the completely wrong way.]

Hell, sometimes they even get themselves successors.

To screw green ladies? [Blake may have lost something there.]

Yeah. [Blake's fingers tap on his knee.] Copycats.

To make the future less lousy. I think his standards slipped a little at some point.

[Though he did have a hot, not green-skinned wife, too.]

Thank goodness those are less organized that the originals, more often than not. Were there many, in your case?

Once you're solving problems with space nazis, something's slipped all right.

No. Not for this guy. [A troubled look passes over Carter's face.] Not yet.

That I know of at least. Who knows what could be going on at home?

[When he thinks of all the time passing without him, he remembers the jail cell isn't the only cage he's in.]

Normal, boring daily life if you're lucky, psycho 2.0 if you're not. I just hope for your sake that the odds aren't 50-50.

[He's not quite sure enough to bet on it, though.]

Daily life has plenty of its own class of psychos. That one...[Blake's voice tightens. It takes effort to keep it under control.] He was something else.

Anybody else tries to play his game, they'll regret it fast, and for a long, long time.

...That bad, huh? What the hell did the guy even do?

[Blake gets it out with a blank, cold expression]

Murdered little kids.

.........The motherfucking son of a bitch did what?

[The fury in Ash's voice could be surprising, for a man that has apparently no particular link to children. He does nothing to restrain it.]

[Blake sounds like somebody for whom that particular seething fury is an old, old friend.]

That's exactly what I said.

[A lot of times, once he got over the initial shock, except a lot louder and with a lot more things getting smashed.]

Forget the privilege of killing him. Everyone in the vicinity should have gotten a shot at him.

[Hell, he'd volunteer the Dark Hound for bigger shots at this point.]

Damn right. But we never got the chance.

[with a touch of bitter satisfaction] He got shoved into a trash compactor. It's better than what he deserved.

That's one way of making sure he's dead and gone. Was it as revenge, or was he trying to avoid arrest?

He was trying to shove a cop in first.

[Blake got it all after the fact, like everybody else, hearing Jayden go over it again and again.]

I wouldn't've believed it if there weren't a body to back it up.

Not much of one, though.

As long as there was enough of it, to dispel any doubt on its identity... Well, at that point it was more than a little deserved.

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