Lavernius Tucker (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lovernotafighter) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thelegion2017-05-24 10:26 pm
lovernotafighter) wrote in thelegion2017-05-24 10:26 pm
Video
[This day had to come eventually, didn't it? Just another one of those damn Blood Gulch Sim Troops arriving here to crash the party, and predictability a little late like always. But hey, it wasn't like he hadn't been busy saving a planet or being blissfully retired or anything equally as important. Nope.
The video shifted a little as Tucker tried to set it upright, but it soon found itself quickly propped at an angle that said this wasn't his first time recording himself; the purpose of such skills would be left up to the viewer to guess at their own discretion. But hey, have Tucker with that beautiful aqua colored armor looking right back at you, even as he sat back down and tried to appear relaxed, cool, okay with ...well, all this. All this.
Ladies in hot tight superhero outfits definitely helped.]
So, yeah, Tucker here. [It felt like an interview with Dylan. Good thing talking about himself was one of his favorite things to do.] Please try to contain your applause, but ladies, feel free to toss your bras in my general direction.
[No shame, this one.]
You know, I was kind of busy back home. [With Church shit. It was always Church shit, and there wasn't a single damn regret for it; in a way, he hoped it kept being Church shit because that meant that bastard was still around. Tucker wanted to be back there, needed to be back there because--] Those idiots - my idiots - have no one to lead them now unless you count Sarge and no one counts Sarge. Shit, I don't even think the Reds count Sarge. Okay, so maybe Simmons does, but whatever.
[He sighed, rubbing his hand over his helmet before he just waved his hand.] But cool, superpowers, am I right? I mean, if I was getting chicks before, I'm getting triple chicks now.
[Let the record show that he was not, in fact, getting ladies before, and that the triple of "zero" is still "zero".]
Look, I just want to get this shit done and over with so I can get back to being a badass back home and get my shit done. So, you know, I'll do what I have to, I guess.
[There's a sigh, that burden of few choices and responsibility - ew - before he cocked is head up.]
Hey, important final question: where do all the hotties hang out around here? There's the title of wingman up for grabs if you tell me.
[At least the video ends there, and everyone was probably better for it.]
The video shifted a little as Tucker tried to set it upright, but it soon found itself quickly propped at an angle that said this wasn't his first time recording himself; the purpose of such skills would be left up to the viewer to guess at their own discretion. But hey, have Tucker with that beautiful aqua colored armor looking right back at you, even as he sat back down and tried to appear relaxed, cool, okay with ...well, all this. All this.
Ladies in hot tight superhero outfits definitely helped.]
So, yeah, Tucker here. [It felt like an interview with Dylan. Good thing talking about himself was one of his favorite things to do.] Please try to contain your applause, but ladies, feel free to toss your bras in my general direction.
[No shame, this one.]
You know, I was kind of busy back home. [With Church shit. It was always Church shit, and there wasn't a single damn regret for it; in a way, he hoped it kept being Church shit because that meant that bastard was still around. Tucker wanted to be back there, needed to be back there because--] Those idiots - my idiots - have no one to lead them now unless you count Sarge and no one counts Sarge. Shit, I don't even think the Reds count Sarge. Okay, so maybe Simmons does, but whatever.
[He sighed, rubbing his hand over his helmet before he just waved his hand.] But cool, superpowers, am I right? I mean, if I was getting chicks before, I'm getting triple chicks now.
[Let the record show that he was not, in fact, getting ladies before, and that the triple of "zero" is still "zero".]
Look, I just want to get this shit done and over with so I can get back to being a badass back home and get my shit done. So, you know, I'll do what I have to, I guess.
[There's a sigh, that burden of few choices and responsibility - ew - before he cocked is head up.]
Hey, important final question: where do all the hotties hang out around here? There's the title of wingman up for grabs if you tell me.
[At least the video ends there, and everyone was probably better for it.]
no subject
I guess if I have to trade one thing for the other, I'm winning in this deal. At least until I get carpal tunnel.
[Tucker. Tucker Tucker Tucker.
Still, he knew that was going to come, the whole getting bitched at about not telling him, but hell, Grif was still going on about not coming home. Home. Place where they lived. Where they should be aiming for.
Not...here.]
Why do you care about what's going on in the future and with the guys if you don't even care enough to go back?
[Maybe it sounded a little more wounded than he planned.]
no subject
Wash says it does but I don't know how or why. It's kind of hard to believe anything I could possibly do in that shithole might change the future in any way.
[ There's something very, very honest in that flare of bitterness. Grif has had years to stew over being stationed in Blood Gulch and its clear lack of significance to the war or... anything, really. He can't know why he was put there, but he stopped trusting that it was a decisive tactical move a very long time ago. ]
no subject
[JFC, man! He waved one of his hands, gesticulating as he talked because did Grif really think that? Did he? Ugh, Red Team was starting to encroach on the Blue Team's dramatics, it seemed.]
Look, just because I can't tell you what happens doesn't mean that you're not important. I know we're not exactly BFFs or anything, but just...trust me. You fucking matter.
Especially to your messed up team.
[Shit, he felt like he was telling quitting Grif the same thing, as if they were interchangeable. Tucker rolled his eyes and sighed; way too many emotions in this shit.]
I know it doesn't seem like it, but they care, okay?
no subject
I don't care about that team, Tucker.
[ It's not entirely true. But it's a lot easier to say this than to admit the alternative. ]
Quite frankly I'm fucking amazed that there's a future me that's still with you guys. Good on him for finally growing a backbone or whatever.
no subject
[Way to sell it. Shit.
That "not caring" didn't change in the future either, Grif. That didn't alter or grow any less real over the years; if anything it cemented itself even more, a pit that kept digging itself until there was nowhere else to go. The bitterness started to rise inside of Tucker again, a white hot hand clutching at his ribs and climbing them like a ladder as he bit back the yell.
Fuck this. Fuck all of this.]
Good to know that you're a selfish asshole no matter when you come from.
no subject
[ And with that snarl, Grif closes the channel. Fuck Tucker. Fuck home showing up to make him feel bad about how things are going well for once in his stupid fucking life. ]