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futurology2016-06-25 03:36 pm
flashbanging) wrote in futurology2016-06-25 03:36 pm
video; un: mccree
[ The video shows a table in some corner of Oska's kitchen. There's a man at this table, long legs propped up on top of it, reclining against his chair. He's wearing boots with spurs, leather chaps, and a red serape that hangs off of his left shoulder. Body armor covers his chest; the panels inlaid on either side glow faintly blue. He's holding a revolver of significant size with one gloved hand, and with the other, he's carefully polishing oil off of that revolver's barrel. That other hand is bionic, and also covered in faintly glowing panels. The prosthetic runs up the visible length of his arm and disappears into the shroud of the serape.
He grins into the feed from beneath the wide brim of his hat. In his late thirties and handsomely rugged, he's swarthy, with thick, brown hair and dark eyes. His voice is a deep, southern drawl--affable, but with a suggestion of something sharper just beneath. A cigarillo, lit and gently smoking, dangles from the corner of his mouth. ]
Well, now. I'm findin' this place right peaceful. I got to say it's nice to walk around without worryin' over a bounty on my head, so I ain't too sore at these ALASTAIR fellas for pluckin' me out my own place like a ripe peach.
[ He jerks one metal thumb at the table. A few gleaming revolver shells are scattered across the wooden surface, nicely framing a half-finished tumbler of bourbon. ]
Bourbon ain't too bad, neither.
[ He sits up and leans forward, setting the gun down next to the glass; as he does so, there's a glimpse of his belt--strung with more revolver bullets and cinched with a gold buckle. The letters 'B A M F' are clearly engraved on this buckle. ]
'Sides, it's a job like any other. I done escorts before. Granted, they usually been human. Sometimes omnic. Never whatever the hell these things are tryin' to be. But if it's got to get done, it's gonna get done, right? Right.
[ He puffs on the cigarillo, exhaling a long plume of white smoke. ]
Oh, yeah. I had a look see at this here device, flicked through the archive a bit. Noticed some talk about learnin' this or that. I ain't handy with a sword, but if you need a man to show you how to shoot, I'm your huckleberry. I know my way around a fist-fight, too, if it comes to that. Ask and ye shall receive.
[ His smile widens, warms. This is still a hell of an unfamiliar situation, but he's damned and determined to make the best of it. ]
Name's McCree, by the way. Pleased t'meet you.
[ He tips his hat, and that's all, folks. ]
He grins into the feed from beneath the wide brim of his hat. In his late thirties and handsomely rugged, he's swarthy, with thick, brown hair and dark eyes. His voice is a deep, southern drawl--affable, but with a suggestion of something sharper just beneath. A cigarillo, lit and gently smoking, dangles from the corner of his mouth. ]
Well, now. I'm findin' this place right peaceful. I got to say it's nice to walk around without worryin' over a bounty on my head, so I ain't too sore at these ALASTAIR fellas for pluckin' me out my own place like a ripe peach.
[ He jerks one metal thumb at the table. A few gleaming revolver shells are scattered across the wooden surface, nicely framing a half-finished tumbler of bourbon. ]
Bourbon ain't too bad, neither.
[ He sits up and leans forward, setting the gun down next to the glass; as he does so, there's a glimpse of his belt--strung with more revolver bullets and cinched with a gold buckle. The letters 'B A M F' are clearly engraved on this buckle. ]
'Sides, it's a job like any other. I done escorts before. Granted, they usually been human. Sometimes omnic. Never whatever the hell these things are tryin' to be. But if it's got to get done, it's gonna get done, right? Right.
[ He puffs on the cigarillo, exhaling a long plume of white smoke. ]
Oh, yeah. I had a look see at this here device, flicked through the archive a bit. Noticed some talk about learnin' this or that. I ain't handy with a sword, but if you need a man to show you how to shoot, I'm your huckleberry. I know my way around a fist-fight, too, if it comes to that. Ask and ye shall receive.
[ His smile widens, warms. This is still a hell of an unfamiliar situation, but he's damned and determined to make the best of it. ]
Name's McCree, by the way. Pleased t'meet you.
[ He tips his hat, and that's all, folks. ]
no subject
[ He shrugs. ]
Mass media, though ... they'll spin things however they like, and there ain't a damn thing you can do about it.
no subject
Yes, you're right... as long as those who influence how it's written decide they want to paint someone as evil, or alter the details of what's happened... that's the way the world will see it.
[ It's happened to them more often than not, the Marines covering up something their crew has done, or crediting something good they've done for themselves, even though they did nothing but stand by when entire countries were almost swallowed up by evil. ]
no subject
[ He nods along. It's precisely what happens to him. Gets frustrating, after a while. ]
Ain't that the truth. I save somebody--or a whole crowd of somebodies--next day all the feeds say I'm the one as caused the problem. Nothin' for it, but it's right tiresome.
no subject
Isn't it?! That's exactly what always happens to us, too! One time, our crew saved a whole country from falling to the hands of an evil man and his organization, and the newspapers painted it as a Marine achievement!
[ She sighs, tossing her orange curls over one shoulder. ] But it's alright... we're not heroes, after all. [ They're pirates, and whatever good things they do, they will always be criminals. ]
no subject
[ But he smiles, shrugging as he sips the bourbon. ]
What would you call yourself, then?
no subject
[ This is... the general Straw Hat logic. It isn't about being a hero, it's about helping a friend!
She grins, and despite the words that follow... actually sounds really damn proud of it. ]
A pirate! I'm the navigator of the Straw Hat Pirates.
no subject
[ But--huh. Pirates? He raises an eyebrow. Well, he's the last person to accuse anyone of an old-fashioned profession. Piracy doesn't have a great reputation anywhere, though. ]
So, in between savin' countries, d'you loot and pillage?
no subject
[ Hrm. She doesn't really agree, and honestly, he doesn't know anything about her or the crew -- he can't talk for them. Perhaps that is true for him, but it hardly is the same for them. ]
We steal from other pirates! ... when we can. Ahhh, most of the time we just go where our captain wants, a new island to explore. And then we end up fighting other pirates or corrupt officials or Marines... there's no time to loot anything! [ THIS IS A REAL PROBLEM. All her treasure!! ]