Thinking of games that allow original characters.

[terribletimes]

Someone who knows someone says you have an idea and you ask them how high you need to jump?

I have yet to see anything beyond the initial 12 pages from Veronica and I so I don't particularly see how..

[and he chuckles] what's that? I'm sorry I can't hear you over the sound of the bullshit rising around my boots. "This will help?" How is putting me on a spaceship going to help? Or burying me under the ocean?

Neither of these are conductive to my job. Or yours. [smirk] You should be worried about making your sordid fucking story that you're so proud of digestible for American audiences.

Like anyone would watch it anyway. [And with all the disgust that he can muster] sir.

What am I going to say to a bunch of guys who just got off the front lines in Europe? sorry I wasn't there guys just before they were about to ship me out I ended up in the hospital for thirty years. Whoops. This is a bad idea. stop it.

Comments

[deadandred]

Well, I dunno, what are you gonna say to a buncha people from the future? You may as well ask that, fella, at least we sort of got something in common.

[terribletimes]

...you're from the future or my future?

Either way the future's pretty bleak. If you have a choice I'd stay back there.

[deadandred]

I'm not from the future, there're people from the future on the ship.

[terribletimes]

I see.

[He hesitates] Is the war over?

[deadandred]

Apparently. I never saw the end of it.

[terribletimes]

...I see.


[weak laugh] well if it's any consolation neither did I.

[deadandred]

It's a consolation to know we won, mostly; but thanks, fella.

[terribletimes]

At what cost?

[neovampire]

Werewolf, huh.

And ex-military? Interesting.

[terribletimes]

[His teeth set] that's classified.

And I'm still military. Just off the books military. It's a wonderful story. Love triumphant, there's a dog in it, my girlfriend.

[neovampire]

You dated a dog?

[terribletimes]

[Any other one of his species, this would be where he leaps across the room puts a hand to his throat and gets ready for a fight. Any other species.

But Eric McGregor is trained. Well trained. people are going to say things. soldiers, commanders. Don't kill them if you can help it.

But the tension is there.]

No sir.

[And the problem is he can say this with a totally straight face]

I've dated a cat. However. [A sly smirk. Let him make of that what he would.]

[neovampire]

...I can't.

[Eric, you've broken Hannibal a little bit right now. See, there are eighty thousand jokes about pussy alone he wants to make, let alone catnip and scratching posts and barbed dicks and goddamn, he may actually overheat and explode.]

You--you need to come where I am. You need to. Oh sweet titty-sucking baby Jesus, I need a pencil--

[SCRAMBLING.]

[terribletimes]

[and Eric laughs. His teeth are far too white and a little too sharp.]

Make all the jokes you want. [The smile dies] what specifically would I do besides allowing you to make jokes at my expense?

[neovampire]

Uh, I don't care?

[Wait. Bad answer. He ponders, then lights up. Right!]

We also go with my original plan of seeing if I can kill you!

[terribletimes]

[Never attack unless threatened.

I find what you're doing pretty threatening! Training a Dog 101: The animal must be disciplined if it displays the wrong behavior.

He'd blacked out then. Never did get those memories back. Instead he ambles close and aims a kick at his legs with inhuman speed.]

[neovampire]

[Oh, yes, this is more like it.

Sorry, buddy, but you're not the only one with a few tricks. See, they cured him, all right. Mostly. And Hannibal is good at fighting things stronger, faster, and just plain meaner than he is. So he jerks aside and draws his gun, grinning shamelessly.]

Bad dog! Sit! Stay!

[terribletimes]

[God-fucking-

Edward freezes. He drops to one knee, tucking the leg under him. Those two words. Bad Dog. Bad Dog. Enough creative thinking and you can make a supernatural creature yours.

So he freezes. Hands on the ground]

You stupid fuck! You don't think I know how to use a gun too?

[neovampire]

[Well.

Now he feels vaguely like a dick.

He doesn't holster the handgun, but he lowers it, cocking his head.]

You're, uh, a little tense there, Lassie. Have you considered aromatherapy? I dated a chick who used it on this yappy little chihuahua she had. Worked wonders. He tasted great with oregano.

[He's so full of shit.]

[terribletimes]

[There's a growl. He stands. slowly]

Dog is shit.

Long Pork tastes better. [he pauses before repeating the word in Vietnamese]. But you know I honestly prefer ice cream. It's like alcohol. It makes you sick, it tastes like shit after five or six glasses but it's comfort food.

[He's not armed. He suddenly wishes he was] I go where I'm told to go. You seem awfully open to werewolves and taking them out.

[Very quiet pause, then] Have you met other supernatural...things?

[neovampire]

I'm a vampire slayer. You know, like Buffy. Tragically Abby said I can't hunt in a cheerleader outfit. I bought pom-poms and everything.

[The gun is not going away.]

You eat people too, though. I have a teensy tiny problem with that. And I've never fought a werewolf before, seems like it might be fun. Silver work on you too?

[terribletimes]

[He smiles] I spent a month in the hospital trying to digest normal food. I gave up when I realized that the nurse on the ward tasted sweeter then the three day old hamburger they'd been trying to feed me.

[His lips press together] what makes you think I'd tell you if it did?

[he is trying...trying to lie and failing. and it shows]

[neovampire]

Cry me a river, Spot.

[Okay, at least he doesn't feel like a dick anymore, because fuck this guy. He'd shoot him here if it'd do anything. But hey. He's not one to waste a conversation.]

And if I were you, I'd tell me, because in a second I'll be preforming some improvised experimentation. Silver bullets, asshole.

[terribletimes]

[His eyes narrow] I don't know. You want to talk about monsters let's talk about humans for a minute okay?

Speaking as someone who used to be one. Five seconds into a conversation with a guy you decide you want to shoot him because why? A farmer's pet dog decided to eat three of my friends and leave me alive?

[neovampire]

Wow, real tragic. Do you want to swap sob stories? Because personally, I don't care how you got this way. I care what you do about it. Guys who casually drop 'so, I eat people' into conversation tend not to be the greatest people.

I mean, I was going to give you a chance to prove you were an asshole before I killed you. And hey, you just did. Also, don't tell me humans are the real monsters, I've heard that like--fifty, sixty times last year. Blah, blah, pathos, don't stare into the abyss, whatever.

You? Eat people. Eating people? Bad. Being a bad little doggie? I shoot you.

[terribletimes]

[Have a breathless, toothy laugh.] And if I play by the rules?

[But it's a struggle to say, and it shows.] You've got to cut me some slack. I can't help the way I was made friend.

[predictor]

How high did she jump?

[Color him vaguely curious. He's here for the mention of front lines, Europe, hospital. But fuck if he's mentioning that.]

[terribletimes]

Ever see one of those really yappy puffy dogs leap in the air when they're scared? About that high.

With about that temperment.

[predictor]

So about a foot. Or are you talking about when someone helps them along?

[There's a twitch of a muscle just below one corner of his mouth. The Aaron Cross version of a smile, at least when he was in data collection mode]

The spaceship doesn't look so bad, I've definitely seen worse.

[terribletimes]

About a foot or thereabouts.

[Straight faced] I'm not leaving my men no matter what anybody says.

This whole damn exercise is a farce.