dear_mun | Voice Test. [Canon is Breaking Bad Season 2.] eventually going to lastvoyages

Voice Test. [Canon is Breaking Bad Season 2.] eventually going to lastvoyages

...Just season 2? You realize that the place you fucking want to send me to is fucking [He cannot quantify this] later?

And for that matter, let's talk about this season bullshit. You're mentioning me like I'm...I'm some kind of fucking cartoon character.

I mean let's talk about this for a second. The last time you tried to play somebody remotely real we've got this ex-NYPD dick who I can't even talk about without getting pissed off- and let's not forget there's wizards and a pony. A pony. There's a fucking pony.

...No I'm not letting it go. You have a head full of fucking cops on one side, and on the other, you have a pony that bakes cupcakes.

...Yeah. It bakes cupcakes. I swear to god if you doped me I'm going to shoot you so full of holes you will be able to strain pasta through your head. cupcakes.

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You? On the Barge? Nah, nah, fuck that, yo.

...Wait, when'd you say you're coming from?

Oh what, afraid that I'm going to ruin your fun? Worthless piles of pond scum like you don't change.

This matter is still up for discussion.

Asshole. What is this, a retirement project? Or... wait. [Timelines are confusing. :c]

[His face hardens] No reason at all I shouldn't make myself useful if she decides to take me from there and spending eternity making you aware of what the hell you've done wrong with your life sounds pretty damn good.

You don't know dick about me, scumbag. Yo, why're they even letting you be a warden? Like flunking out of the DEA wasn't a pretty good sign you shouldn't be in charge of wiping your own ass?

...Your. Fault. And I'll be sure to make that known to your new little fucking friends.

Make what known? That you went batshit over some shit you ain't even had proof I did? Yeah, go ahead and tell them. I got a few things to tell them, too.

[His eyes narrow]

Someone must think I'm worth something. [completely overlooking the notion that someone must think this kid is worth something too.]

Really? I think you're a loser asshole who can't tell a real dealer from his left ass cheek. But go ahead, yo, arrest me for something else with no evidence-- oh, you can't, you ain't got no badge.

You're still a fucking punk. What, haven't you done any time in the hole for talking like that?

They don't put you in the hole just for talking shit. Sucks to be you, dumbass.

It bakes cupcakes? This horse bakes cupcakes. I just can't get past it. Maybe you should get your gun ready, because that sounds like something you only see when you're doped up.

Right? tell me about it. Although the locals tell me it's par for the course around here.

[All the awkward]

You all right?

I'm not seeing horses that bake cupcakes, if that's what you're after.

I'm fine. How are you holding up?

...No? Good. At least somebody has some kind of sense.

[pause] ...Not too good actually. Little shaky, little rocky but that's on my side of the fence.

[He studies him] ...Is it true you're on that shitty space boat thing?

No offense, but I'm glad I'm not on your side of the fence.

[He sighed before nodding.] Yeah, yeah I am. Heard you might be following.

...Thank you so much for your vote of support. [/good natured sarcasm.]

[Then. Serious.] ...You might be right about that.

You have anything you want to talk to me about before I get there?

[His face suddenly goes serious at that question. It sounds like a cop question. It's a way of asking 'what do you want to admit' without actually saying it.]

What could I possibly have to tell you? I don't know much about the ship.

...So you haven't been there long.

[Does he sound a little sad? ...It's your imagination. Seriously.]

...They treating you all right?

[His lips twitches and then he changed his mind. He didn't want to give it away. He doesn't want the questions his inmate status might bring up.]

It's being kidnapped and forced to do things you don't want to. Not my idea of a picnic, but it's better than being dead.

...Forced to do things you don't want to do?

[eyebrow raise]

Must have you working pretty hard then.

Working? Oh, I don't get to do real work. I haven't touched a chemical in months. Driving me nuts. At least teaching I got some use of my skills, but here, natta.

[...Huh. He was 50 percent sure that half of the things his writer had said were bullshit. But the way Walt's talking-he's playing more guidance counselor then actual high school teacher.

Or drug dealer.

Trust in his writer is down by 20. Thanks Walt.]

Yeah, well. You're helping people.

[Have a knowing look. Let's play the "Did you or Didn't you?" Game.]

I guess helping someone in exchange for having my life back isn't an all bad trade.

[Have a half smile that says I'm perfectly innocent.]

[...Interrogation number one. Reveal your hand only when you're positively sure that it'll throw the guy off his game.

This completely contradicts everything that he was led to believe about the hellboat.]

You seem like you could fit the school guidance counselor mold really well. I bet you've got somebody following you around who really likes you.

[That sounds too good to be true, so it can't be. A dumber man might agree right away.]

Listen, let me be honest with you, this boat is hell. You should beg whoever it is that's thinking about sending you there, not too.

[Damn. There's no flicker in Hank's gaze. No change in his grin.]

...I've heard stories Walt.

[There's an edge to his tone.]

...A lot of stories.

[His face turns to steel at the last sentence. He puts on his mental dark glasses and hat.]

What sort of stories?

[And now he knows.

Damn it.

Damn it all to hell.

Damn it.]

[Except that's how you play the game right? His tone turns calm, cool, collected. They're just shooting the breeze.]

...Turning into kids. Exotic and dangerous places where the boat docks. Aliens.

[pause] Ghosts.

[another pause] ...Facing up to shit. Isn't that what it's supposed to be? I got this guy up in here.

[He reaches for a soda.] Ex-Cop. Fucking nutbar. Bought into this serial killer's philosophy. I hate the man on principle. Dishonored the badge.

Guess this boat takes all kinds.

[Hank might as well be begging to know why Walter is on the boat, but he's not giving an inch. He doesn't plan to either. The last person he wants to tell is his DEA brother-in-law.]

I guess that guy has a lot of shit to face up to. But like you said, the boat takes all kinds. Not everyone there is guilty.

[True. Except Mark Hoffman is a scumbag who betrayed the people's trust. And in all honesty how different..

No. It was different.

Play it cool Hank. Play it cool.]

...Which is how you approach your inmate. Not everyone is guilty. [Admit it man. Just admit it. Be straight.]

So what'd he do? Murderer? Torturer? Come on man. I talked shit all the time on the job with the other guys. It helps relieve stress. [there's a slight edge] Tension.

[The more tense he was, the more calm Walter acted. Let Hank stress himself out and make a mistake, yell at him. Make him look the fool and Walter could keep his facade of good man.]

I don't feel all the tense about it.

...So no shit talking.

[Hank looks away, seemingly satisfied. And then he turns back to fix his gaze back on him in mute, disappointing appeal.]

..I admire that. I know you're a good guy Walt.You would never betray somebody's trust that way.

[The guilt approach maybe? Not going to work. Not in the least.]

I'm glad you understand. A different man might be upset that I didn't want to tell you.

You know that you can trust me man.

[serious] The same way I'd trust you. Or Skyler. Or anyone.

We're family Walt. We've fucking proven that haven we?

Won't deny I'm curious, but I trust you to make the right decisions.

[All of his suspicions. He knows they exist. He knows there has to be some truth to these stories.]

To know what you have to do.

That's what it's all about, right? Family. Every decision I have ever made has been for my family.

[Which includes keeping my own ass alive for them.]

We're both family men deep inside.

[Goddamnit. God. Dammit. It's all Hank can do not to say something then and there.]

...Yeah buddy.

[No emotion. Just another perp.

The minute his mind goes to that, Hank Schrader's voice grows tight.]

...Yeah.

All the more reason that once I'm back in shape..

[hands spread wide] ...I can't let you do this on your own Walt. Your wife would never forgive me.

[A perp? Walter would be insulted. He is the perp, the elusive Heisenberg.]

Your wife would never forgive me if you got on this boat to help me out.

[He wavers there. It's gone in a heart beat.]

Marie understands.

I promised her a moon rock.

We gotta go to at least one moon.

You sure the moon rock isn't for you, Hank?

...We gotta go to at least one moon man. How freaking cool would that be?

Very. I wonder if we'd get to bounce around like did on the lunar moon landing.

[This is killing him.]

...It wouldn't particularly be a moon without that no matter what those shit sci-fi shows say.

[Walter was a master of having casual conversations while his mind was spinning about something else.]

I bet you'd spend all day looking at those dumb rocks if you got them.

I would not.

[frown] I'd get a nice one, sand it down, and have a paperweight.

[don't hate on the moon rocks man.]

A paperweight? Can't you make it into anything more useful?

...What else can you do with a rock? I mean it's not like I can show it off or do something with it..

You could always...shave it down and make it into an...ashtray.

[So there is really nothing he can think of to do with a space rock.]

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Voice Test. [Canon is Breaking Bad Season 2.] eventually going to lastvoyages

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