asher fuckboy millstone (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
moneyballer) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
futurology2016-08-09 08:04 am
moneyballer) wrote in futurology2016-08-09 08:04 am
VIDEO; 001 | ID: I CAN B UR DADDY
[The video feed turns on to feature a well-groomed man in his mid twenties, who at this point attempts to present his meanest mug to the network. He seems to think that this is actually a good idea, despite everything that went down in the desert. As far as he’s concerned, he has reason to celebrate- Asher, a mere mortal with little to no survival skills, somehow managed to make it through the meteor shower and protect the little alien he’s been assigned to.]
‘Sup bodacious babes. Homie-g’s. Haters.
[He does a little nod to the camera, playing it as “”””cool”””” as he can.]
I was thinkin’, since we’re out saving the universe n’ all… We could use something cool as like an intro, a theme song, y’know?
Something funky fresh. Like a fresh ass beat!
[He clasps his hands together, spitting into them with great enthusiasm but a slight lack of coordination.]
Yo, yo, yo, A-Milly in the hizzzz-house!
Milly as in a million, always stuntin’ like a-
[Asher pauses here, looking a little confused. He blinks once or twice, as if he’s trying to remember something important.]
Vill-i-ain? Um, I’m still working on the intro. Anyway-
[Clearing his throat, he continues on. The interference is probably making this transmission even worse (if that’s possible, can it really get any more embarrassing than this?).]
We up in here, we in the zone
Ready to take care of all yo’ homes,
Don’t matter if it’s outer space, cause we gon put them bad guys in their pl-AAYYYYYCE-
[He ends enthusiastically, but freezes mid-air. It seems as though he’s considering saying something else, but his shoulders drop and he shrugs.]
Uh, yeah. That’s all I got? But I think it has potential. Anyway, um, if anybody wants to like… Help me finish or whatever.
Hit me up, mothafuckaaaaaa.
‘Sup bodacious babes. Homie-g’s. Haters.
[He does a little nod to the camera, playing it as “”””cool”””” as he can.]
I was thinkin’, since we’re out saving the universe n’ all… We could use something cool as like an intro, a theme song, y’know?
Something funky fresh. Like a fresh ass beat!
[He clasps his hands together, spitting into them with great enthusiasm but a slight lack of coordination.]
Yo, yo, yo, A-Milly in the hizzzz-house!
Milly as in a million, always stuntin’ like a-
[Asher pauses here, looking a little confused. He blinks once or twice, as if he’s trying to remember something important.]
Vill-i-ain? Um, I’m still working on the intro. Anyway-
[Clearing his throat, he continues on. The interference is probably making this transmission even worse (if that’s possible, can it really get any more embarrassing than this?).]
We up in here, we in the zone
Ready to take care of all yo’ homes,
Don’t matter if it’s outer space, cause we gon put them bad guys in their pl-AAYYYYYCE-
[He ends enthusiastically, but freezes mid-air. It seems as though he’s considering saying something else, but his shoulders drop and he shrugs.]
Uh, yeah. That’s all I got? But I think it has potential. Anyway, um, if anybody wants to like… Help me finish or whatever.
Hit me up, mothafuckaaaaaa.
no subject
He can only hope that, in his egregious and somewhat irritating efforts to be friendly, he won't alienate everyone all over again.]
We're just taking care of the alien squishy things, right? This time.
[McCree makes it all sound so easy. Roughing it in the desert was not something that came naturally to him, and in fact, Asher has quite a few scrapes and bruises from that time alone. In a way, it was good for him, surprising that he even survived with his body and squidge intact, but a reminder.
A reminder that maybe, sometimes, he could be more than just an overprivileged screw-up.]
Does it get worse than that?
[There's a little bit of rustling on Asher's end of the feed. Speak of the devil, it seems as though his squidge is prodding his shoulder for something. He looks down and moves his arm, allowing the thing to crawl into his lap before looking back up again.]
no subject
[ At the sight/sound of another squidge, McCree's own jelly son babbles excitedly. Jesse picks up Eastwood, wincing slightly--his arm's aching, and this little fella is covered in armor--as he lets the squidge settle on his shoulder. Eastwood waves a friendly flipper at its kin. ]
An' truth be told, I don't rightly know. I came in at the start of this whole enterprise. Heard tell that some of the other jobs these folks've been on weren't quite so peaceful, though.
no subject
His squidge, a curious little thing that has not yet made contact with others of its kind, peeks out from under the 1L's arm, although it doesn't leave his grasp completely.]
Oh. Hey there, little guy!
[Although not much time has passed, the fondness in Asher's voice and the genuine smile on his face seems to suggest that he's actually grown quite attached to the little extraterrestrial. At the very least, it seems to be one of the few things that actually likes him.]
It's okay.
[Asher moves his arm so that the squidge's face is visible, although he folds both arms around it.]
Yeah? Not so peaceful, huh...
[Wary, wary.
His stomach churns, an uncomfortable foreboding within it.]
Like... How do you mean?
no subject
Simmer down, now.
[ To Asher, he makes a 'hmn' noise in his throat. ]
Last one involved killin' a god, apparently. Heavy stuff.
no subject
[Asher reflexively pulls his squidge closer, without thinking.]
But that just doesn't make sense. If something's a god, then...
Then you can't kill it, right?
no subject
[ He shrugs. ]
'Parently not, though. Can't say as whether we'll encounter such a thing in future. Just mean it ain't likely to stay as simple as all this.
[ Which brings him to the salient point. ]
What I'm tryin' to say is: if you don't got any experience in a fight, now's the time to think about learnin'.
no subject
Terror.
He feels the nasty thing travel down his spine, like so many icy, prickly fingers. Asher's been doing what he does best, distracting himself and being goofy to drown out just how bad this really is for him, being stranded in a foreign land and ill-equipped for all its trials and tribulations.
Asher is not, and will never be, anything like a soldier. While they aren't fighting a war or anything like that, he knows that he's not made for this sort of thing.]
I-
[Asher swallows nervously.]
I don't know if I can even do that kind of thing. I mean! I work out a lot, but...
It's not the same, is it?
no subject
He shakes his head. ]
Naw. Ain't much the same at all.
[ He leans forward, grinning. ]
Fortunately, you got willin' teachers all around you.
no subject
Having his privilege taken from him will build character, and maybe a few muscles too.]
Yeah?
[His smile is a crooked one, bent from all the worries that have been eating away at him. He looks hopeful, though. Asher continues jokingly, although it seems like McCree himself is offering.]
You think you know a guy?
no subject
[ He jabs both thumbs--flesh and bionic--at himself. ]
This fella, right here. I'll show you how to punch, mean as anythin'. Mean as a rattler.
no subject
He really shouldn't trust someone who offers something as intimate as a partnership so willingly, but he is desperate for it, desperate to feel close to somebody.
He wants to trust.]
Um, I...
[Asher has the body of a man who can do some damage, at least in his world, but the urge to hurt or strike something with his own hands just doesn't come naturally for him. It can, however, be pinpointed. Drawn out.]
I can throw a punch, I guess? I used to love boxing. I watched it all the time. Heck, I even-
[Wildly gesturing with one hand, he searches for words.]
I used to go a couple rounds with the punching bag at the gym, but that's pretty much it. I dropped it once I got into law school.
[It's been hard to even manage work and school, honestly.]
I guess I just couldn't keep up.
no subject
The punchin' bag, huh? Reckon it's time for a different kinda school.
[ The school of 'how not to get your ass kicked'.
A pause. ]
Not that lawyerin' ain't important. Don't expect you'll be able to continue those studies 'til you're safe back at home, though.
no subject
[He sounds disappointed.
Just how long will he be here? Asher is already twenty-five. Not too old to be a first year, but older, just by a little bit.]
I guess not.
[He has no choice however, this is what he must do.
After all, he has to survive if he wants to go back.]
So, uh... I'd be down! Um, to learn.
[Asher places a hand on either hip, nodding.]
Thanks dude. 'Preciate it.
no subject
It'll be my pleasure. Name's McCree, by the way.
[ He presumes this fella's name is not actually 'A-milly', so he looks expectant. ]
no subject
There is nothing hoisting him up here, so he will finally learn to stand on his own.]
O-oh! I'm Asher. The name's Asher.
[He nods. McCree? That sounds like a last name. Irish, maybe.]
Asher Millstone.
It's uuuh.... Mmmmm, thank you, I-
[He takes a moment to clear his throat.]
I'll hit you up, I guess. Nice to meetcha.
no subject
[ He grins, and salutes Asher with his index finger. ]
You take care of yourself til then, y'hear? And if you need anythin', you know where to find me.
no subject
[Asher offers McCree a more timid smile than the ones he usually sports, which are typically wide and over-compensating.]
Thanks.
[There's a look of hope and even admiration in his eyes before he nods in the other's direction. He holds two fingers up and gestures before cutting off the feed, as if to say goodbye.
This won't be the last you see of him.]