dear_mun | voice testing (mr. pink/reservoir dogs)

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obscure canon: movies

voice testing (mr. pink/reservoir dogs)

You gotta be shittin’ me. It isn’t bad enough that the heist fell through, now you want to drag me into this mess of fucked up nobodies and creeps that ain’t even human? All of this talking through computers, being put into some unknown situation where anything can happen, I don’t like that. This isn’t my game. This isn’t the way I play.

As if I’ve got a fuckin’ choice in the matter.

While we’re at it, you know what? This all smells pretty rotten to me. You think this is fun, you’re pretty fuckin’ sick, is what I think. Just… toying around with people—there’s me and god knows who else, but I know I’m not the only one—and what kind of a game is that? Have you got nothing better to do with yourself, you’ve gotta play with us all day? I don’t know why you’d want me in your head. Hell, I don’t always want me in my head. You hear me? This doesn't end, I mean I don’t stop talking. I just don’t, I’m not kidding you.

Jesus Christ, at least get me a cigarette, will ya?

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These muns are a bunch of sickos, is what I think. They're probably some kinda weird sadists--they've gotta get off on this shit to keep doin' it, you get me?

Yeah, I mean, you've got it right there. Somebody oughtta pull 'em out of it, wake 'em the fuck up. It's gotta be bad for the brain, or something. Only shrinks're supposed to spend that much time in someone else's head, and all of them are certifiably nuts.

Don't get me wrong, I try not to get into anybody's private life--what people do on their own is their business, no matter what kind of weird shit they're into--but when it starts fuckin' with my life, it's time to take a stand. Way I see it, I'm just speak up for my fucking rights.

Edited 2013-01-05 09:21 (UTC)

Exactly! Like, this is some grade A invasion of privacy bullshit. This is against the goddamn Constitution. And I am not down for some--some whackjob stalking me, or trying to use me as a case study or whatever it is they do. [Because he has had WAY more experience dealing with getting kidnapped by crazy people than he would like to admit.]

...I mean, I'm pretty new too, but like, I hear all the stories. Some kid up here got his eyeball eaten by a cannibal or something. Freaky stuff.

What the fuck, I ain't heard that. I've seen some perverse shit, but that's a whole new level of messed up. Thought they only did that shit in Brazil or some shit. Jesus. What sort of a person sticks a guy with these freaks, is exactly what I want to know.

And this, this is the reason I steer clear of shrinks--I mean, that and I'm not crazy, but all of this dicking around. We can't see them, they can see us. Privacy? Privacy's a joke, man! They got no reason for anything they do, but somehow they get away with calling it legit. Might as well be playing for a bunch of cops.

Right? Like I'm saying. A bunch of sadists, touched in the head an' shit.

I hate muns, and I hate the cops, but I didn't--geez, I never connected it! No wonder everybody else up here's crazy: it's like lock-up, only worse.

...Or like that asylum Batman throws all the supervillains in, maybe. Shit, man.

And we just, what, stay here until they decide they're sick of us? Or are stuck here indefinitely? I mean, is this fuckin' eternity? I'm pretty sure I didn't die but then I'm also pretty sure guys don't usually go around snacking on eyeballs and when did this become a police state?! This ain't fuckin' right. This ain't right in any book.

Holy fuck, man, we're in some deep shit. I can't stay in here. Confined spaces drive me nuts, I'm not fucking joking.

Wait, wait, hold on, I think I know what you're talking about, Batman or whatever. I think I read about that place. Unless you're talking about Jack Nicholson--which, there's a creepy motherfucker--and I don't remember any prison in that.

[Shit, he mentioned the heist. Does he know...? Maybe not. Just play it cool, he's still one of them, no big deal.]

They got you too, huh? I know the fucking feeling. Anyway, I ain't got much, but here. [Offers him a cigarette.]

Orange? What the hell're you doing here? What the fuck, man, I thought you were dying. We go to ditch the cars, and everything goes shit over heels, I'm stuck in this I-don't-even-know-what, and now you just appear like you weren't spilling blood all over the goddamn place.

I mean, congratulations, I'm glad to see you're up and looking like roses, but what the fuck.

[He snatches the cigarette a little too abruptly.] Thanks. Got a light?

Is the Pope a fucking Catholic? 'Course I got a light. [With a well practiced flick of the wrist the lighter is out from his pocket, Pink's cigarette is lit before he gets himself one.]

Yeah, hey, you an' me both. I'm glad to be alive but this headspace shit? I'm not sure it's any better. So much for 'rest in peace' and all that bullshit. [ Smoke 'em if you got 'em, and he does.] So, uh, you see what happened to the other guys? I mean, panic time fucking everywhere.

Edited 2013-01-05 21:07 (UTC)

[Thank God. The cigarette doesn't do a whole lot to calm him down, but at least it's something, gives an action to focus on.]

Man, I don't get this at all. What're we even--This has gotta be some kind of joke, right? Shit like this doesn't happen.

Fuck. [All right, all right, focus. Focus. He takes a drag off the cigarette.] Last I knew, Mr. Blonde's with you, I'm in the car with White and Eddie, who're throwin' a regular shitfit, and then, just... Nothin'. It's like everything falls away, and suddenly I don't know where White and Eddie went. Still don't know anything about Blue.

What about you? You seen Blonde anywhere?

[Shit. Shitshitshit. That should relax him but it doesn't. Be cool, Freddy, just be cool.]

Like you said, Blonde was with me. That puts you at knowing more than me already. I was passed out, remember? Think I remember hearin' you two- [the thought of Larry makes his voice catch, and his hand shakes when he takes another drag. He straightens up quickly.] -beating the shit out of a cop. It's all a fucked up mess in my head.

And now look where we are.

Oh yeah. Wonder what happened to the cop. I banged up my hand pretty bad on the bastard. Fuckin' cops. [He returns to the cigarette, trying to suck some sort of comfort out of it. Fuck, jesus, this is--All right. All right, the cigarette isn't helping much. He starts pacing.] Not like he did us a damn bit of good.

Yeah, just look at us. This place--I knew I should've gotten out of there, knew this was all a bad idea, when the fuck did I stop listening to myself? You want to know something, Orange? Always trust your instinct. I don't know how long you been around, but you take my work and listen to yourself, or you'll end up royally fucked.

I mean, we still don't know who did what, and now I don't know how the fuck we're ever supposed to find out, unless you're the rat, which, I don't know, maybe you are, couldn't get a word outta you before. I don't know! But bein' here doesn't make me want to know any less, I can tell you that.

You still think I'm a rat? C'mon, Pink, look at me. Would I even be here if I wasn't? We're in the same fucked up situation. Just like before, only difference is? I'm not bleeding all over the fucking floor, now what does that tell ya? There's some serious cosmic ray shit going on here.

[Another drag off his cigarette. The nicotine isn't working for him either, just his fucking luck.]

Jesus Christ, Orange, were you even listening? I don't know what I think, I just know someone fucked us over. And maybe it was you or maybe it was White or Eddie or Blue--shit, maybe that's why we never heard from him. Point being that I am only suggesting an option. But you...

[He turns abruptly and stalks toward Orange, eyes fixed, searching for some sign.] I mean, you're protesting awfully hard for an innocent man, aren't you? You seem like a pretty decent guy, and White sure thinks a hell of a lot of you, but what the fuck do I know or does White know? Cosmic fucking bullshit aside, what reason've I got to trust you?

Edited 2013-01-06 03:50 (UTC)

[Freddy holds up his hands defensively, backs up a step. He can't help it. Pink can be pretty damn intimidating when he tried.]

What the hell do you want me to say? The whole point of this heist was we didn't know each other. All I can tell you is I know it wasn't me. Don't know what proof you expect outta me beyond that. You want my name? I'll tell ya that. No reason to keep up the alias crap anymore, is there?

What the hell good is your name gonna do? Don't--We don't know what'll happen next, so don't go telling me your name. Jesus, you and White, thinking if we hold hands and sing songs, everything'll be fuckin' sunshine. I don't want to know you, all right? I don't even need solid proof you're not the rat. What I need is for you to stop acting like you got some sort of deep dark secret. I'm not saying I believe you, but Jesus Christ, give me something to work with.

[He and White have done a lot more than hold hands but no fucking way he's mentioning that. Smokes more, flicks away the ash off to the side.]

The song thing was more Brown's agenda, not L--White's. [Just be fucking Barretta. Stop slipping up.] No names, got it. I'm cool. Alright? That's all I am. Just some lowlife who got his first big break and look what the fuck happens. Blonde goes psycho, whole thing shot to shit in a second. I would've fucking died if not for this... well, whatever the fuck all this is. Your freaking out is just making me nervous as hell. I always hate to see professionals like you lose their minds.

[Nothing wrong with a little buttering up.]

Edited 2013-01-06 08:56 (UTC)

[Goddamn right, no names, no 'Hello my name is Phil isn't it nice we just met.' He'll stick with Mr. Pink until he can guarantee there won't be any repercussions. Which might just mean sticking with Mr. Pink 'til the end, even if it is a shitty name.

He notices the slip with White, but it's not enough to tell much, and it isn't the primary concern. Starts pacing again, but stops when Orange has finished.]

Yeah, and what the fuck do you know about it, huh? Lose my mind, this isn't losing my mind, this isn't even blowin' my cool. You don't know me, don't fucking tell me I'm nuts. You want crazy, go find Mr. Blonde. You want crazy, I got a coupla weirdo neighbors you can talk to.

[Keep it calm, keep it calm. He walks again, just to settle himself, and it helps a little bit.] You think you're nervous, but look at it this way: whatever happens, you're coming out of it better off. It's a Christ-lovin' miracle, hallelujah, you're alive! Nervous? You got a good deal, pal, whatever the hell is goin' on here.

Me, I had the fuckin' diamonds...

Yeah, but that's all there and then. Christ knows what happened to the stones, even, let alone why we're--Aw, hell. D'you think we're dead, Orange? I don't remember dying, but maybe you don't, maybe it just comes on you like a knock on the back of the head.

Edited 2013-01-06 09:27 (UTC)

[He wants to tell him to calm the fuck down already, jesus christ, but he holds it back. If Pink wants to talk then, sure, let him. Go to it. The more he says then the less Freddy has to. Cuts down on chances he'll reveal something he shouldn't.]

It's a possibility. [Spoken with some hesitation. How badly he wants to tell Pink that he lives, the only one of them that does, but it didn't look good for him, and without thinking about it, he rubs the spot on the cheek where he can still feel the business end of Larry's gun.]

I was going to and who knows what the fuck happened after that. Maybe we are, maybe we ain't. Let's look at the facts: we're here, wherever the here even is, and we got no one else. Don't know about you, but I'm thinking sticking together would be a good idea.

Edited 2013-01-06 23:18 (UTC)

All right, but what if the facts aren't the facts? I mean, how the fuck are we supposed to know? Fact is I should be on my way back to that piece of shit warehouse, and all I got is high fuckin' alert, red lights flashing, and that's when I take my fucking exit cue, but there ain't nowhere to go!

Not to trash your ideas, and maybe you've got a good point about sticking together, but if I don't know how to know whether I'm here, then how the fuck'm I going to know to trust you? Just give me a moment, man. Give me a moment.

Edited 2013-01-07 04:58 (UTC)

[Freddy waved his hand in the air, the go ahead sign of 'Sure, take all the moments you need, man. They're all yours.' He waits close to two minutes before speaking again.]

You're stuck on that trust thing, aren't you? You're beating a dead horse with it. Either you do or you don't, either way? That don't much matter right now. Quite frankly, I don't give a shit if you do trust me.

[A bold-faced lie, the worse he's probably told up to this point, but he can't show just how fucking scared he really is. No way.]

Maybe we'll be put someplace that makes sense. Maybe that cosmic ray shit will separate us in a few minutes. Who the fuck even knows anymore?

[He uses the silence to take a walk, muttering out loud when the thoughts in his head get to be too much to handle. So far as he can tell, there isn't any way to make any of this into sense, and he isn't any closer to clarity when Orange speaks again.]

You're about as helpful as a hard-on in a convent, you know that?

[Still, the longer he finds himself here, the more he begins to believe that he really is here. Maybe inescapably, maybe not, but Orange is right: the fact seems to be that he exists in this moment and in this place. And Orange isn't such a bad guy, right?

Besides, if any sort of shit starts up, it's better to have someone on your side.]

Look, I'm not saying I'm convinced about you, but--You seem like an okay guy, got a good sense of humor. Joe trusts you, White trusts you, and maybe that says something or maybe it just says they've got a poor judge of character. But shit, it's not as if I've got any other goddamn choice.

[Deep breath, last moment to pull out--] My name's... Fuck it, my name's Phil. Okay?

[It's a weird thing to get on Pink's vibe of conversation. Freddy studies him through side glances or outright watching when he doesn't think Pink---Phil---will catch him. The Professional. The Fast Talker. Yeah, okay, he can work with that. This is a doable situation.

There's a moment's hesitation before he shrugs.]

Freddy. Nice to meet ya, Phil. [No offering of hands, following his lead.] And hey, I may not be the most helpful person around, but we're all we've got.

My best idea? Get the fuck outta here, figure out where we are, and... shit, I don't know, get a motel or something. Lie low. You got an better ideas on what to do, I'm all ears.

[He shouldn't have said it. The instant the name slipped from his mouth, Phil wanted to take it back. The more he sits with it, the more uneasy he becomes. Fuck, fuck, fuck... Lacking any method of erasing his name from Orange's memory--make that Freddy's memory--he settles for twining his fingers together and pulling them apart, again, again, again.

Nervous habit. So fucking what?]

Nice name, Freddy. [If that's actually his name. Because what if the clever bastard gave a false name? That's not on the level, and shit, why hadn't he just done that, himself? Didn't stay cool in the moment. Damnit. Okay, okay, so cool down now, don't make any more mistakes, you can't make mistakes in this game.]

Assuming motels even exist--and I'll tell you, I am very goddamn uncertain on that point--that ain't a bad idea. No sense sticking around here, waiting for cops or Christ knows whatever bigshot to turn up.

Jesus fucking Christ. There's more than one of me. Fuck, man. That's some fucked up shit right there.

You gotta be... What did I, step outside and lose my fuckin' mind?

This is some sort of joke, right? I mean, you're not fucking for real. That don't make no sense, it just doesn't make any goddamn sense.

I'm as real as you are. Name's Steve. Nice to meet... well, me. Hey, none of this makes sense, but I've been around a good year now. Seen some things you wouldn't believe and it probably says a fucking lot that meeting myself is the tamest out of all of them.

No kidding, you get used to this shit?

All right, I still don't believe it. I think I'm missing something, but just in case all of this makes sense in some fucked-up way... Who the hell else am I gonna tell my name to, right?

Okay. My name's Phil. And I'm just pleased as all damn punch to meet you, even if we are the same guy just with different names and you've been here for a year and were probably in on the same heist and Jesus fucking Christ, this shit ain't right.

Edited 2013-01-06 09:35 (UTC)

Phil, huh? Never thought of myself as a Phil. Don't know why. Y'know I was almost named Sid? Funny thing I'm tellin' ya.

[He is the exact opposite of his other self. Calm where the other is panicked. He's been around the block before, kiddo. Also, time for a cigarette. He offers one.]

Yeah, we were in the same heist together. Been a while for me though. I went to this prison ship, shit happened, got my head on straight.

Now you mention it, I've been through maybe three names in the last week. I get the sense this one's stuck, but I might be safer just sticking with Pink. Or maybe I'll just make up my own goddamn name. If they can do it, why not us?

[Thank God, at least there's a cigarette. He takes it, trying not to look at the other one. If he doesn't think about everything, this guy--and he can't think of it as himself, no matter what his eyes or his ears or even his instinct might say--this guy is cooling him off a little bit.

But as soon as he looks up and sees his own face (well, almost his own face, plus some flickers and expressions he doesn't recognize), everything starts to fall apart again. Un-fucking-believable.]

So at some point you and me stopped being the same person, only you split off before I did or I got lost in goddamn time or something. Makes perfect fuckin' sense to me. And you were on a--Whaddya mean, you were on a prison ship? That shit really happens here?

[Steve repockets the pack and settles back against the opposite giving the other him--Phil--some space. A year ago this would all seem bizarre to him. But, now? He's cool with it. Once you've been a purple dragon in a fairy tale universe, nothing can startle you.]

Alias's are good. You should keep it. Make it respectable. Most places people won't question it. Might get some funny looks for it, but fuck those guys, y'know?

[Another slow, calm drag.] The jail ship can happen, but I doubt it will for you. I've--well, we, I guess--already been through that shit. I'm guessing before that we came from different spots in the timeline. That kind of shit happens all the fucking time.

[He doesn't know how to feel about taking advice from himself. Or from a himself called Steve, which doesn't even--]

Yeah, sure. I mean, I don't like it, but I'm starting to like it, you know? Pink's not so bad.

[Maybe. Works just as well an any other name, anyway.

Phil can't keep still, shifting from one foot to the other, pacing a distance of a few brief steps. As he moves, he takes to the cigarette furiously, as if it could sort everything into sense. It can't, of course, but he feels a little better holding it between his fingers. A cigarette is something that he understands in this messed up situation.]

I don't remember bein' through anything like that. Shit, I hope I don't start having memories like I did, or some shit. [He does feel a twinge of regret for this other self or not-self or almost-self.] That must've been some awful fucking ship, man.

Wait, and this timeline is like... You're fucking kidding me, you're saying our lives are all planned out along some straight line, like for real destiny bullshit?

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voice testing (mr. pink/reservoir dogs)

wow you are like my hero

'pologies for the fifty million edits, erk.

no worries! c:

:D (also, have been meaning to watch breaking bad for a long time, and now i'm even more intrigued)

aaaa yes it's definitely worth checking out

then so i shall... >:D (also, the anxiety quotient in this thread is pretty high, and it amuses)

let me love you!

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

my reaction exactly!

yeah i'm just going to be spazzing over here for a little while.

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I just. Your Pink voice is perfection okay.

i just want to give orange a hug. aw, orange, aw.

he needs all of them, the idiot

trufax.

these two just need to go on crazy adventures together

i vote yesss on that.

psl the hell out of it, why not

okay but pink says they gotta get two beds at motels or whatever.

Freddy's still playing the 'I'm totally hetero' alias anyway. I MEAN--uh. that'd work.

aheh. hey, freddy business is his own, you know? long as he doesn't bring it home with him.

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Hi I'm sorry but I could not resist

ohdeargod XD

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by n by ifn you need icons feel free to snag! I don't really use this account anymore :)

indeed? i may do so (ye've some verrah lovely icons), and many thanks! :D

some are inactive because no PA woes. I could upload them all though no prob

don't want to give ye extra work, though do 'preciate :D shall pillage what i can and go happy-dance