Scrad/Charlie (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
twoheadsofcabbage) wrote2012-03-19 07:21 pm
twoheadsofcabbage) wrote2012-03-19 07:21 pm
Entry tags:
The One With The Ex-Parrot: Video
[Scrad sits on the zebra-print futon in his puke avocado green room. He has a small television set on his lap, which his arms are wrapped around protectively. He looks shell-shocked. Charlie, who is hovering behind him, looks livid.]
Y'know, normally we're all for pirate simulations? But turning half a guy into a parrot is not cool.
[Scrad agrees:]
Hnnngh.
[...because he's obsessively stroking his own tongue. Charlie twists around until he's facing his bodymate.]
Snap outta it!
Y'know, normally we're all for pirate simulations? But turning half a guy into a parrot is not cool.
[Scrad agrees:]
Hnnngh.
[...because he's obsessively stroking his own tongue. Charlie twists around until he's facing his bodymate.]
Snap outta it!
[Private]
Chuck NorrisK. And they don't know what your game is... But you did ask, and they aren't above complaining to anybody.]Do we look alright?
[Scrad is still clutching a television set like a security blanket.]
[Private]
[There's only been one breach that he couldn't take, and that's the one that put him in a post office in suburbia again.]
[Private]
Oh. Okay. How about you say that to our faces after you get separated from half of your mental functions and most used body parts?
[Private]
[Private]
What?
[Charlie's eyes narrow.]
Why?
[Private]
Doesn't sound like he was. So take it like a TV show you had to watch with way too much sensory involvement.
[Private]
He was a human and a bird. Of course he wasn't us.
[As much as they like human stuff, they have no interest in being an actual human. But K's suggestion does help: smooths over all the weird lingering emptiness and wrongness, and the claustrophobic feeling at having been unable to communicate. If Scrad were a little more aware, he'd have a new respect for the amount of time Charlie has had to spend in the backpack. But he isn't, and the fact that Charlie has developed something approaching Stockholm Syndrome about the backpack doesn't help.
It also doesn't help that K is trying to help them. This too is wrong. Like Gnarths and *&@#!!!!!'s living together. Scrad throws his hands in the air, despite caring very, very much.]
Alright! You know what? We give! Just tell us what you want from us. We can't take it anymore.
[Private]
You didn't do anything. Help out any jackasses. Act like a black market dickbag like Jeebs. Sell any info. You just got caught in a bad situation. No reason to go through hell over that.
Re: [Private]
[Charlie leans a tiny bit forward (but not far enough that K might be able to reach through the communicator and strangle him.]
We can't tell because of your face.
Re: [Private]
[There's that unnerving stare. As if he doesn't know it's unnerving. Which on some level he both does, and doesn't.]
Re: [Private]
Right. Well. We will admit: things got a little out of hand.
[As Charlie recalls:]
People got bent...too far...
[Scrad continues:]
But in our defense: hey, that girl was gonna blow up and take out the whole planet, so.
[Maybe they're not so bad after all (no, they are).]
[Private]
She had a way off the planet.
[Private]
[Charlie tsks.]
Not telling somebody they're set to explode: that's pretty cold, even for you guys.
[Private]
[And he gets up and turns off the comm, because he's going to looking for Scrad with every intention of grabbing him by Charlie and swing him right into a door.
It'll take about twenty minutes before he loses interest. But it'll happen.]
[Private]
Was it something we said?