CALL ME OUT

[bootyhunter]

CALL ME OUT:

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Currently writing Dandy (Space Dandy) / Rex Splode (Invincible) / and Simon Laurent (Infinity Train)

bootyhunter / himbomb / incelligent



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*Note: Sakamoto Tatsuma (Gintama) kaihentai and Asher Millstone (How to Get Away With Murder) moneyballer available on request



Also voicetesting Mike Wazowski (Monsters Inc) googlybear / Eddy (Ed, Edd, n' Eddy) edboy / Reagan Ridley (Inside Job) madcryentist / Abdul Ali (Squid Game) aitbaar / Portia Davenport (Search Party) portialain / Elliot Goss (Search Party) confabulous / Fleabag (Fleabag) feminitwit / Johnny Bravo (Johny Bravo) pretteh / and Joel Hammond (Santa Clarita Diet) screechy

Comments

[misspitbull]

No.

It’s a lion.

[It’s stylized in a high school mascot kind of way—- easy mistake. She pops a hand on her hip, keeping her gaze fixed above her.]

Aren’t you missing something?

[His swimsuit. Or his shame. Either or.]

[himbomb]

What, you mean-

[Shame?]

My clothes? No!

[He cocks his head in the direction of the messy pile of clothes that he's just made. Oof, that's more water splashing around... A few droplets may get close to Parker's well-manicured toes.]

They're right over there.

[The smile that creeps upon his features is a mirthy one. Parker has done nothing to earn his wrath, but hey, Rex does love making other people uncomfortable.]

Why? You planning on stealin' em? Tsk, tsk, tsk.

[Rex shakes his head in an exaggerated fashion, adopting a mocking tone.]

I thought you were a cheerleader! Not a panty thief.

[misspitbull]

[She doesn’t move, except for the slightest brow furrow. Ugh. He’s missing both.]

Cheerleaders are people, too. We can be a multitude of things.

I’m not here to steal your underwear. I was going to go for a swim, but you seem—-

[Don’t look, Parker, Don’t—- She’s using every bit of self restraint she can.]

[himbomb]

[His shitty grin doesn't waver. There's even an uptick in pitch at the end of the word!]

Naked?

[misspitbull]

I was going to say busy.

[She lowers her gaze. To his face.]

Seriously. You’re not even a little embarrassed?

[says the girl in the bikini. She turns away from him, fluffing her towel out.]

You need one of these? I have an extra for my hair, but you can have it to spare yourself.

[himbomb]

[He's not swimming laps or pleasuring himself in the pool, so no! He is not at all busy. There are kids here, and he may be an animal, but he's mostly a little shit and not the kind of person you'd see on To Catch a Predator.]

Not yet I don't!

[In regards to her towel question, as for the shame...]

And since you're not one of the kids or creepy old boneheads? No! Not really.

[Rex offers Parker a casual shrug, only getting more water everywhere.]

Plus, if you're not peerin' through the water, you won't catch a glimpse of my dingleberries or nothing! So, who cares.

[misspitbull]

[Parker makes a tiny, exasperated huff, and moves to very deliberately leave her other towel by the edge of the pool. Why is she doing this for him? She’s basically a saint in her own mind.]

Yeah, yeah, you’re lucky it’s me. Just stay out of my way. [She slips her legs into the pool, very deliberately not looking at him still.]

[himbomb]

[He is lucky.

Just to see how far he can test her, he cups a hand to the side of his face, yelling at absolutely no one. His green eyes, now filled with a raging, goblin-like sort of quality, grow wide to accompany his theatrics, but that doesn't mean he didn't catch sight of that towel.]

Hey, hey everybody! Miss Queen of the Cornfield wants to hog all the chlorinated bathwater!

[This is indeed a pool, not a bath, but it's feeding into his bit-]

Y'know, it's funny. There's a bunch of people who'd pay hella money to drink mine. Well, my bathwater, that is.

[And his blood. Well, not drink per se... But Rex knows very well that the price on his head was high, even though he had only been a minor.

Perhaps that made it higher still. There are not many mercenaries, no matter how dastardly or wicked, who would greenlight killing a child. That is in part a reason that he is still alive.]

What's got you so grumpy? Is it all the murder?

[Which, despite his tone, would be understandable.]

Or is it somethin' else?

[misspitbull]

Oh my god. Who are you yelling for? We’re the only ones here.

[She doesn’t let that scare her off, though. If someone walks in now, she won’t be the one who looks stupid. She’s properly dressed for this situation. She slips her hair back into a ponytail, then slides the rest of the way into the pool, even plunging underneath the water briefly— her eyes closed tightly. When she resurfaces, she considers ignoring his question.]

Mostly the murder thing. And the kidnapping thing. And the fact that every time I try to go near the gym, I see —-

You know.

[himbomb]

["Why Are You Yelling" should be the title of his memoir.

...Oh.

She's swimming. Or well, floating.

Rex doesn't put words to it, but he feels victorious, in a way. If she's distracting herself in the presence of someone else, even if that someone may be the world's worst superhero, she isn't suffering. Not actively. Therefore, by proxy, he is doing something good, and by even further of a stretch...

That means that in a way, he is doing his job.]

Yeah.

[Rex has never possessed the gift of gab.]

I know.

I wanted to do something before all of that, but, I-

[I'm tired.

He is always tired.

So there's no excuse.]

Do you ever get any sleep?

[misspitbull]

Some. [It’s honest, at least.

That wasn’t new, either. The last year has been full of restless nights, no matter how hard she tried for her beauty sleep. She’d dreamed of George, or Anna—- of fireworks. Of Henry’s face, his hand pressing into her back. Then she’d dreamed of Katie, begging her to do something. What were a few more nightmares to add to the bunch?

She’s actually grateful for her roommate assignments. He doesn’t say anything when she wakes up shouting the names of dead girls.

But she doesn’t say any of that to Rex. She leaves it as it is.]

What about you?

[himbomb]

I'm not too comfortable knockin' out really, no.

[When he does manage to fall asleep, it's Gwen's worst nightmare. That's two snoring louts in her room, although one of them is actually likable, and that one isn't Rex.]

Sometimes I'll exercise a lot? And try really hard to get all hot and sweaty, but, aah...

Even in this limp-dick-boy, fleshy meat-prison, it's... Hard.

[He means a body without superpowers.]

I'm just used to more... Shit, I guess. Just as dangerous! Probably worse. Actually? Very much so.

But there's a lot less sitting and waiting.

[misspitbull]

Shocker, superheroes don’t sleep well. [She says it dryly, but… Well. She’s calling him what he claims to be.]

I get it, though. Sometimes it helps; to just move until you can’t think anymore.

[Parker’s very specifically ignoring his limp dick comment. She swims backwards a little, careful to keep more than enough distance between them, and turns her gaze to the ceiling.]

There’s a library, now, at least. I was going to lose my mind if I had to re-read Othello for the fourteenth time. Might as well make use of all of the time sitting and waiting.

[himbomb]

There's a reason for that, but... I'll spare you the details.

They're, um, gross.

[Should he tell her? That the iconic halls he walks on the daily were rife with the blood of the heroes that came before him. Their shoes are too damn big to fill, but what he will take is the higher pay cut, absolutely.]

Yeah, I get what you mean.

[He has been running for so long.

Running, leaping, doing back flips... She is a cheerleader and he is a superhero, but their gymnastics-based training makes them similar in that regard.]

You like that one?

Isn't that the one that's highkey racist? Oh! With the one woman-lady.

[Woman-lady.]

Doo-doo-momma-girl.

[DESDEMONA????]

Or was it Des-de-mommy?

[CLOSER???? BUT NO DICE]

[misspitbull]

[She’s morbidly curious, and wonders what kind of gross, but doesn’t ask. Parker has the feeling she doesn’t actually want to know, so she shrugs it off.

She also has the feeling that he really does know—- what it’s like to push yourself so far, trying to outrun the expectations placed upon you- both by yourself and others. So she doesn’t argue, and just focuses on the Shakespeare.]

Desdemona.

[She corrects him, emphasizing the name. Parker stans a dead Queen.]

It’s a little more complicated than that—- [She stops herself from plunging into an analysis on it, just barely.] —- that’s the one. It’s not my favorite, it’s just what the clown dropped on me last week.

I do like Shakespeare. That stuffs old as hell, but it’s still relevant.

[himbomb]

But...

[Here, Rex waggles his eyebrows comically, hoping the joke will give her respite from her thoughts. Parker has better taste than this, certainly, but they've all collectively fallen upon hard times.]

Des-de-mommy... Die?

[like "does the mommy"

idk why i'm explaining this it's just us]

I didn't think you'd be that into theater. Well, if Racism-Shmacism isn't your favorite of the bunch, which one is? Also, you'll have to explain it to me.

I don't read shit.

[misspitbull]

Yes. Desdemona dies. [Shes playing this completely straight. Like he’s actually asking her.]

What, is it that shocking that I’m actually smart? [She doesn’t give him time to answer.] It was something George and I appreciated together. He always covered that kind of stuff for the school newspaper.

The Tempest. Romance, comedy, magic, adventure, and a play within a play. [Parker loves a good romance. Especially one where no one dies.]

And a happy ending.

[himbomb]

So you're a romantic.

[Unsurprising. She strikes him as the tightly-wound, harsh type who is a sucker for a good love story. Her boyfriend died in a tragic accident, so she is searching for something hopeful to cling onto, even if it isn't real.

He is similar, in a way. Or was.

Most of those lovey-tales just hurt him now.]

Aaaah, no? But theater kids tend to be a lot geekier lookin' than you, at least most of the time! Although...

They are just as attention-seeking.

[misspitbull]

Is it attention-seeking if I don’t have to seek it? People just love me. I can’t help it. [It’s another half truth. People do flock to Parker— she radiates an energy that pulls others into orbit around her. Some of it’s from trying way too hard. Some of it’s natural. And not even Parker knows the difference, anymore.]

Enough about my embarrassing nerd parts. What about you? What do you like? [since he doesn’t read there’s gotta be something…]

[himbomb]

[He'd protest if he actually disliked her, but she's a pretty white girl, and god do people love those, himself included.

Something about his face changes when she asks him that question. He has to take a moment to back himself up against the wall and lean onto it with both arms. How long has it been since someone asked Rex about his personal interests and not the limits of his abilities? Kate had been quick to mess around when he lied about himself and Eve breaking up, but it hadn't been anything deeper than a round of spiteful sexy-times.]

Uh, booze, babes, and bombs? The three B's?

[A surface level answer.]

Sorry. I mean... Fuck. Not like that, not the violent bits!

[Not all the violent bits.]

Moreso just the, ah, fireworks. The smell? Sans burning flesh!

[Rex sheepishly rubs at the back of his neck. This is a tough topic for her, so he switches gears.]

Also, gymnastics.

[misspitbull]

[Fireworks. The smell of burning flesh. Could she even differentiate the two? Parker feels her chest seize with panic, and she moves subconsciously, turning her back away from him, even if it means she’s looking in his direction now—- and then he changes the topic. She exhales heavily.

She’d loved fireworks too, once. The colors, the sparkle. And even the smell.

But not anymore.]

Okay, I didn’t see that last part coming.

[himbomb]

[He watches her chest rise and fall, concerned. Rex isn't all that good at stopping himself from talking when he really shouldn't, but was all that information worth the terror within her heart? It's beating so loudly he can hear it from where he is.]

Gymnastics? Really?

[She should recognize his form, but then again, he and Libra are some of the paltry few who had visited the gym recently. For the two combatants, gore in its grisliest of forms is just as mundane as ketchup on a hotdog, however insensitive it may seem to some.]

I figured you of all people would pick up on it, but, ah! Well.

Yeah. I'm a real 'nastics whiz. The superpowers help, obviously? But even without 'em, I've always been... Springy? And flexible. God, there's another word for it, it sounds like nipple...

Oh! Nimble! Right.

[misspitbull]

Now that you say it, it makes sense. [She’s calming down, now, and the nimble-nipple comment actually gets half a laugh out of her. Her breathing’s more regular, her shoulders more relaxed.]

It’s just that most guys I know would never admit that would be something they’re into. Toxic masculinity, at its best. [who taught her these words]

[himbomb]

God, it is so crazy that people think that! It's the basis of all my fighting styles, and I'm a literal pro at so many martial arts! Krav maga, jujitsu, muay thai, taekwondo...

[What he neglects to mention is that if he didn't pass all the tests, he would have been unlikely to survive the surgery. Either that or he'd have been gunned down first.

The second thing is probably what would have happened.]

And those are just the top four!

[misspitbull]

Brag much?

[But she’s smiling- more natural than she usually does, less like she’s about to kill a man with her smile alone - and her voice is missing most of the bite that it’s held when she talked to him in the past.

Then she Parker’s up the entire conversation by being way too straight forward.]

So— why do you do it? All the fighting, the masked stuff. Is it about being needed? Or… about being feared?