hadriel | audio.

Man. Man. You guys are just, ahahah, just a riot. The guy tied to his bed, the guy trapped in his room, that one weird couple having a blow-out — like, hello, you know we can all see that, right? [ he gives a sigh-chuckle. ] Ahh, bandits.

Aaaanyway, just wanted to check in with everyone, say hi, introduce myself. It's Handsome Jack — yes, the Handsome is legally part of my name, yes, you can just call me Jack, though I will also respond to "sir" and occasionally, "daddy". Some of you have already met me: I'd do shout outs but I've mostlyyy, uh, forgotten all your names? Sorry, kids. Thanks for helping me kill those ugly titty monsters. There's always a job for you at Hyperion.

One last thing, promise I'll make it quick. Space travel. If you know shit about building something that can leave atmo, see me after class. If you know anything about what galaxy and sector we're in, raise your hand. If you're riding out in the desert on one'a these divine spirit quests and you think "boy, that old hunk of scrap looks like it could be useful in constructing a rocket!"? Gimme a call. There could be something in it for you.

Okay kids, that's all for now. Remember to check bloodflow to your partner's bound hands every hour so they don't lose 'em. Jack out.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

What— oh, the audio? Also my brand. Means I can get other shit done. You make a video call, you've gotta do like, board room eye contact, you gotta brush your hair, you can't eat anything... no no no, gimme handsfree audio-only any day of the week.

Unless you're hot and over twenty-five, then, mm, [ sort of a hand-wiggle i dunno sound ] maybe.

[ he makes a fair point. Cashmere on video usually means her hair and makeup is done, and she's found the best lighting possible for the time of day. sometimes you just don't have time to give everyone doe eyes and crocodile tears.

she laughs.] Well, I am and I am so....

Well, you've got my attention. But unlike some people, I'm not gonna ask for proof.

[ Just teasing. But he does turn on video, adjusting the camera like he's still getting used to the device it's a part of — he's outdoors, somewhere high, maybe a rooftop. And sure, okay, he's got a heck of a jawline, and thick hair brushed into soft waves with just a single gray streak, and there's a rugged middle-age film star look about him. But the most distinctive thing is the mask. It's distinctive because it's obvious: shades paler than his brown skin, bolted in place at the chin and temples. But it's fantastically advanced technology still, such fine details and natural movement with his face that it could almost be mistaken for being just makeup.

One eye is blue, and the other green, and both of them have an empty kind of amusement to them. Cashmere knows killers, and she sure knows rich assholes, so she might be able to pick that he's both.

But he smiles, and it's friendly. ]

Hey there, cupcake.

[ fair is fair, and Cashmere turns on her own video, her long blonde hair pulled over one shoulder. she studies him intently, not bothering to hide the fact that she's trying to figure him out. he's right, he is handsome, but she's not going to give him the satisfaction of announcing that.

she imagines he gets away with a lot, probably a combination of his good looks and his general sort of intensity that means he's not as harmless as he might want her to think. she's not sure what the mask is all about, but it strikes her as Capitol-like. Cashmere's overall assessment is that he's dangerous. there's nothing to gain in telling him that, and potentially a lot to gain in making him think the opposite. she smiles back at him with a coy tilt of of her head. ]

It's Cashmere, actually. [ ha ha. ] Are you trying to build a hovercraft and fly out of here? [ she knows next to nothing about space travel, but she's pretend. ]

No shit, you really are beautiful.

[ A decade ago he woulda stuttered through that, but it's still the same uncalculated reaction to women he's always had: eyes widening, softening a touch. And then he looks away — he isn't all that unaffected by the "yandere" bullshit, knows he's more volatile than usual even if he also knows how to handle it.

He looks up at the sky instead. ]

If I wanted to cross the desert, I'd build a hovercraft. I'd rather get off his weird-ass monster-infested overheated planet all together, so I'm gonna build a space program.

[ honestly, she'd be disappointed if he thought otherwise. her expression is a little more smug as he looks away. ]

Where would you go? Even if you got off the planet you might not be able to get home. Not just your home. Anyone's home.

Screw going home. There are still better options. Build a space shuttle, colonize some other planet, find life somewhere else. Buuuut that's all a ways off. Even just getting objects to leave atmosphere can be tough on some planets, and we are really starting from scratch here.

[ maybe he's right. maybe. but between home and Hadriel, Hadriel is the better choice. there was the hotel, too, which she also doesn't think is any better than what they've already got. so maybe he's not right. maybe this is the best it gets. ]

Colonize another planet? Is it really that easy?

Nothing's easy. We do it anyway.

[ A little shrug, jaw firmed. He's grown up with all this infrastructure already in place for generations, but how hard could it be to recreate it, right? ]

You just do whatever you want, don't you?

[ Well, that gets a slow smile. ]

I've found that tends to be the best way to get what I want. Permission, forgiveness, yada yada.

[ He leans forward, hand on his chin. ]

How about you, Cashmere, what's your story?

[ a unintentionally loaded question, though he doesn't strike her as the kind of guy who thinks children fighting to the death is tragic. she speaks casually, like this is Totally Normal. ]

I trained as a fighter for most of my childhood, won a competition when i was 18, and was set to live the rest of my life in as much peace as I could imagine with all my winnings. Things got a little out of hand at home, and the next thing I knew, I ended up in some unfamiliar hotel-prison with people from other worlds. As soon as I got used to that, I woke up here.

Edited 2018-02-24 19:32 (UTC)

[ Jack gives a 'wow' whistle from beneath his teeth. ]

Sounds like you've had a pretty action-packed life. With a few uh, setbacks. Sucks you never got to just enjoy being on top.

There were a couple good years in there after I won. [ maybe "good" isn't the right word, and neither is "years" but there were moments when not everything was terrible? ] This place isn't all bad, but I do miss my house.

What about you? What did you do before?

[ Casually, like it's nbd: ]

Worked my way to the top of a crappy little company, turned it into a powerhouse, became a trillionaire.

[ Died, got turned into a sentient AI, lived in some dude's head... he keeps leaving that bit out of his stories for some reason. ]

A trillionaire? [ she raises an eyebrow at him. ] Not bad for a crappy little company. Though I don't suppose it does you much good here. Unless you use some of that business skills to negotiate with the gods.

I was hoping maybe my management experience would help get people working together, but I'm starting to see that's as likely to happen as my money showing up.

[ So he's at least accepted he's without that resource. ]

Hmm. Well, how lucky are you? Luck isn't a bad substitute for skill.

I've been lucky. But if it's a finite quality then I've used it the hell up just showing up here.

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