Caliborn (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
scaremonger) wrote2014-03-15 10:13 pm
scaremonger) wrote2014-03-15 10:13 pm
01 - forward dated to post-event
[ VOICE ]
So basically. I'm in jail.
[ Caliborn lets a long silence pan out, intending it to hammer in the sheer injustice of it all. He is also obviously walking around, the dull sound of his metal leg against the floor ringing clearly. ]
All of my preparation. All of my work and devotion. And most of all. My self attained freedom. Is sooo totally gone now. Because some slippery bitch picked me up. Like. "Hey, Cal! You've been kind of evil. So come to prison." I mean, duh? Evil is my bag. But this Admiral Shitface did it when I was in critical fucking mission mode. It's like. No wonder he's not showing his face. He should be ashamed. For ruining my glorious self-suicide godhood ascension scenario.
[ His previously just indignant tone hits a lower note of blind fury, and the sound of him pacing around gets louder as he stomps. ]
And also taking away what rightfully belonged to me. I earned all of that freedom.
[ He reaches out and kicks a chair, which rolls and hits the far wall of his cabin forcefully. ]
More than any of you. I deserve that.
[ He swings out and there's a loud clamor as the chair hits the wall again, possibly snapping. Which is completely what actually happened. ]
Some worthless mother fucker is going to like. Wheel over here. "But what about meeeee." Or maybe. "Stop whining!" Or even. "I want to get punched in the face. And every tooth in my jaw. Shattered." Which is basically. Implicit in every single response. That isn't wholehearted agreement? But. To that bullshit, I say. Were you chained up most your life?? Stuck in a room with a shit tier sister who color coded things for you??? No? Then. You can't say anything.
[ There's a long wordless silence as he shuffles around, as much as stomping is shuffling. He huffs and the device gets picked up. A moment of hesitation is followed by him throwing it against the far wall with all his might.
It's muffled, but he shouts across the room at the dumb thing. ]
I'm going to throw a tantrum. AND THERE IS NOTHING YOU CAN DO ABOUT IT.
[ SPAM ]
[ And then, not too long after the post goes up, Caliborn will be found wandering the deck. He's come up with the intention of ignoring people who don't talk to him, but it's likely that his short attention span will be scooped up by some interesting looking passerby.
Before that, though... he's definitely up to no good, either by attempting to fuck up the rose gardens in some creative way when he thinks no one is looking or staring vacantly overboard where he's thrown a wooden chair.
Space is pretty hypnotic. ]
So basically. I'm in jail.
[ Caliborn lets a long silence pan out, intending it to hammer in the sheer injustice of it all. He is also obviously walking around, the dull sound of his metal leg against the floor ringing clearly. ]
All of my preparation. All of my work and devotion. And most of all. My self attained freedom. Is sooo totally gone now. Because some slippery bitch picked me up. Like. "Hey, Cal! You've been kind of evil. So come to prison." I mean, duh? Evil is my bag. But this Admiral Shitface did it when I was in critical fucking mission mode. It's like. No wonder he's not showing his face. He should be ashamed. For ruining my glorious self-suicide godhood ascension scenario.
[ His previously just indignant tone hits a lower note of blind fury, and the sound of him pacing around gets louder as he stomps. ]
And also taking away what rightfully belonged to me. I earned all of that freedom.
[ He reaches out and kicks a chair, which rolls and hits the far wall of his cabin forcefully. ]
More than any of you. I deserve that.
[ He swings out and there's a loud clamor as the chair hits the wall again, possibly snapping. Which is completely what actually happened. ]
Some worthless mother fucker is going to like. Wheel over here. "But what about meeeee." Or maybe. "Stop whining!" Or even. "I want to get punched in the face. And every tooth in my jaw. Shattered." Which is basically. Implicit in every single response. That isn't wholehearted agreement? But. To that bullshit, I say. Were you chained up most your life?? Stuck in a room with a shit tier sister who color coded things for you??? No? Then. You can't say anything.
[ There's a long wordless silence as he shuffles around, as much as stomping is shuffling. He huffs and the device gets picked up. A moment of hesitation is followed by him throwing it against the far wall with all his might.
It's muffled, but he shouts across the room at the dumb thing. ]
I'm going to throw a tantrum. AND THERE IS NOTHING YOU CAN DO ABOUT IT.
[ SPAM ]
[ And then, not too long after the post goes up, Caliborn will be found wandering the deck. He's come up with the intention of ignoring people who don't talk to him, but it's likely that his short attention span will be scooped up by some interesting looking passerby.
Before that, though... he's definitely up to no good, either by attempting to fuck up the rose gardens in some creative way when he thinks no one is looking or staring vacantly overboard where he's thrown a wooden chair.
Space is pretty hypnotic. ]
voice
That's a good number. I mean. I got entire planets. So I can't even begin to count for myself. So: not bad, dude. I'm almost impressed.
[ Except by his tone of voice it's unintentionally obvious that he actually is impressed. ]
voice
[He sounds amused, but not exactly mocking.]
I guess I'll have to try harder, then. Planets, huh? You'd never get done counting.
voice
[ Caliborn thinks this guy is pretty tolerable; he lets him brag about his amazing accomplishments. ]
And. Haa haa haa. Yeah. You have no idea. I planted really big bombs on the sides of them. And pushed them into a black hole. It was just to do something else. Something better. And more awful. But there's no denying that killing a planet is excellent.
voice
[He's genuinely curious. Killing that many people in one fell swoop - is that better or worse than one by one?]
I kinda like the individualized touch. But to each his own.