bootyhunter | CALL ME OUT

[Parker leans back against the corner of the loveseat, her head tilted in his direction so she can still see him while she finally lets go of her precise posture. He does look tired, and she knows she should probably leave him alone so he can get some rest. But she also doesn't want to leave him here, all on his own.

She knows what lonely's like. Immediately after the accident, she'd lost her best friend and her boyfriend. It was her own doing-- and she bounced back okay, but it had still been lonely. If it weren't for her pageant work, she doesn't know if her social status could have been maintained-- if her future would have been okay. So much weighed on carefully built social relationships, crafted throughout generations. She'd damaged things with the Boleyns. The heir to the Tudor fortune was off in some swanky prison. Her pageant friends were nice enough-- but they were competition.

Maybe they were both a little lonely. So she stays.]

Does she really? Why?

[Rex's shoulders heave and he exhales sharply, the noise long and drawn out. This is nice, in a way. Nice doesn't come his way too often.

There's a sort of pleasantness to just talking. He usually does everything to get around to doing literally anything else, usually something physical, whether it be sex, a fight, or another strange beer-filled milk-carton excursion, because he trusts his poise more than he does his heart or his head.]

I can think up a few reasons.

[Parker watches him carefully, noting the way that he breathes. He seems a little more relaxed now, at least.]

Do you care that she hates you? [Its maybe a bit personal— but the questions still sincere.]

[He puffs up one cheek, those nostrils of his flaring momentarily.

It's a good question. Rex can't be sure he has the answer.]

Sometimes?

[Being hated is unavoidable, and it's definitely less desirable than being liked, that's for sure.

But it's better than being ignored.

At least if he's the asshole, he is someone. He will still be remembered.

Even though it isn't for anything great.]

It might be bigger than her, though.

And all the other "hers".

[It’s weird to see him like this. Vulnerable and unmasked, literally. He looks so different than he did prom night, as he pulled her away from the flames.]

It’s normal to be hated. People hate me, all the time.

[Tentatively, she scoots closer to him.]

And for what it’s worth? I don’t hate you.

Edited 2022-09-15 01:32 (UTC)

Haters are different.

[Vulnerability is uncomfortable, and uncool.

He despises it.]

They're people who don't know your ass, so they take potshots atcha on the 'gram! Havin' haters means you're relevant enough to make randos think about you for way longer than is clinically, contractually, and factually normal, which means-

[Here, he takes a breath.]

They're also probably makin' use of at least a teeeeeny-tiny bit of that frustration to jerk off!

And I dunno about you, but I happen to count any imaginary visitations to the grimy dustbin of brain-sin a win in my book.

[Do you see how long-winded he is getting just to avoid addressing the fact that someone doesn't hate him...]

Okay, but like, you can't know that for-sure for-sure!

You don't even know me that well.

[Her face curls with slight disdain at his tirade about haters— she doesn’t want to think about her own haters in that context.

Disgusting. But then he circles back to her not hating him, and she offers a passive shrug.]

I don’t hate you right now at least. You’d have to try pretty hard to get me to hate you. You saved my life.

[the only thing playing between his ears rn]

...I'm glad you think it's a life worth livin', at least.

[He's voicing his own thoughts out loud, in a way.

A few seconds pass, after which Rex backpedals. Fuck, fuck, fuck-]

Woof, that was dark!

Sorry.

It's just... I think you're the first one of 'em I've met that's actually said thank you.

[tho tbf usually the scenes are so chaotic... he doesn't quite blame people for being unable to show gratitude]

I can't tell if that's because you're nice and shit, or if it's because it's the first time I actually bothered to listen.

[On account of her being hot, by Rex's tastes specifically.]

[It might be dark, but she smiles anyway. It’s something she’s thought about, a lot, since he rescued her.]

I’m making it worth living.

[There’s a glimmer of intensity to her eyes, confident as she says it. ~~The Parker Rochford of it all.~~]

It’s not because I’m nice. I’m not really known for being nice. Maybe I’m just the first one to take the initiative.

[That's a sentiment Rex can admire. In a way, he relates, although he's not entirely sure he's doing as good a job as Parker.

He often plays the fool or ignores the goings-on around him due to his own willfully-ingrained callous nature, but when the cards are down, he's no fool. Rex is good at putting pieces together, and perhaps a little too good for his own mental sanity. He's half-naked, alone in a room with a pretty girl who seems to also want company. She's being oddly kind but not ooey-gooey, and they're in a fairly nice, if all-too-bland, place that they could potentially wreck from a wild night.

The only thing in the fridge is alcohol.]

I'm done messin' around with "nice" people.

[He thinks of Eve. And then, regretfully, Invincible.

Is Kate nice? Overall, yes. He would say she was a good person and a reliable teammate.

But to Rex, specifically? He can't say her motives in regards to their own relationship were ever very charitable. Then again, that is mostly his fault, since he started this on-again, off-again series of superhero booty calls.]

Screw that noise!

I'm not nice.

Nice is the last thing I'll ever be.

There's no use in forcin' it.

[She lets loose another laugh, tossing her head and hair back as she does so. It’s a ridiculously perfect, practiced motion. Like something you’d see in a movie. It should look artificial, but on Parker, it’s effortless.]

Exactly. It doesn’t mean you can’t still be good. Nice and good… they’re different things.

But I don’t care about either of those things. What I want? Is to be great.

[And happy. And be cherished. But she doesn’t say either of those things. She focuses on her image of greatness, instead. She was young, beautiful, and rich. The world was at her fingertips.

She doesn’t know why, despite all this, she’s still reaching. Searching for some purpose.

She could have stayed with George. Settled down, had their two and a half kids. Become a famous mommy blogger. Or she could have gone into the family “business”, claiming some high ranking position she hadn’t yet earned, cementing her rank in upper society. Instead, she’s trying to be Miss America. It’s a single driven purpose, but still vague enough to make her feel a little lost. Without a purpose or a focus to throw herself into. Like… solving a string of murders or something. ]

It’s probably way out of line of me to say. But I think… I understand the shit you heroes go through. A little. Pagents… the gowns, the sashes, the tiaras. They’re like masks.

And underneath mine, I’m kindof a bitch.

Only "kind of?"

[Nice and good are different things.

But are they?

There's definitely some truth to this statement, but his line of work has made it kind of difficult to come up with a solid answer, if he's being truly forthright. Superheroes are supposed to be personable and upright, even if it seems like an unfair and almost insurmountable expectation. In practice, Rex should be able to work with his teammates and put out literal fires on a grandiose scale- Why, why does he also have to be pleasant while doing so?]

Great, huh?

At what, exactly?

Little Miss Teen Queen shmuckaroos have got some seriously messed up expiration dates.

And yours is comin' up pretty fast.

… I don’t know yet. I used to think I did. But I’m not worried, I’ll figure it out. [Shes confident about that part, at least. Her voice carrie’s that confidence, in a way that’s almost overwhelming—- Parker Rochford will find her way.

But she has to scoff at his expiration date comment.]

Rude. I’m not expiring yet. Do I seem like I’m expiring, to you? [She leans forward, closer to him.]

[No!!! The untethered temptation of feminine wiles...

He is a weak man.]

Not if you're flirting with me...

[Rex gulps. He will certainly regret whatever's coming next.]

You're not.

Regardless of that part-- [Her face scrunches in slight annoyance, but she doesn't draw away from him. She doesn't deny the flirting part, either. She just stays there, leaning into his personal space.]

That's right. I'm not. [Then-- she smiles at him. It's one of the too bright beauty queen smiles, this time.]

Do you still want me to leave?

Not flirting, or...

[He too reciprocates, leaning in almost automatically, stopping just short of brushing their noses together. The pull is almost gravitational, and he's reminded that this isn't the first time he's fallen victim to a tug from the whirlpool of bad decisions.]

No.

[Rex practically huffs out, wondering just how long of a shower he'll have to take to wash the stench of shame and desperation out of his hair.]

Look, if you wanna bang a superhero... Just go flash your chimichangas at Bulletproof, alright? I know I've got a bad rep but he's sooooo much worse than I am.

'Least I keep the nudes I've saved on a burner phone!

[Its almost a game of chicken, now, to see which of them will draw back first. Her arm brushes against his, as she balances beside him.]

You think that’s what this is all about? That I’m some desperate girl, who has to chase after guys? Because I’m not.

Or are you seriously that dense, that you don’t think it’s possible for anyone to… actually care about getting to know you?

[Rex neither moves nor flinches, though any warmth or tenderness that could have previously been found on his face dissipates almost instantly. He too doesn't budge, primarily out of stubbornness.

And, suddenly- Spite.]

Do you, though?

[He clicks his tongue almost derisively.]

I mean, care! About really gettin' to know a guy like me.

[There's so much about his past that Rex has practically flushed down the proverbial toilet, he's certain that she doesn't want to know the half of it.

He'd rather forget most of it himself, if he were to be completely honest.]

I'm just another one of your little pageant trophies! One more badge to prove that you're somehow better than the rest of those sniveling turdfaces you've gotta sit through graduation with.

You don't wanna know I really am! I wear a mask all the damn day, for Christ's sake!

And there are plenty of good reasons for that.

I don’t need you, to prove I’m better than all of them. I already am. [Her voice, too, changes—- brow furrowing slightly in frustration, but she doesn’t tear away from him yet.]

You’re so obnoxious, you know that? And I’m an idiot, because, yeah, somehow, I do care. Because if I didn’t, I would not be here, dealing with your ass.

[He knows he's obnoxious. Most of the time, he does it on purpose.]

Because I saved you that one time?

Something I am legally, and need I remind you, contractually obligated to do?!

[He can think of a few reasons why she'd be disenchanted with him. The laundry list is palpable and long. First thing's first, he's worse than trailer trash, a poor boy from a food insecure family once destined for a life in the slammer. His powers and his body aren't his own, they're simply "enhancements" he had to test for, like every other stupid kid who had to take the SAT or what-the-fuck-ever to get into college. Prior to walking the right path, he had agreed to be a fucking hitman for hire, buying into abhorrent military propaganda and wanting badly to prove his worth.

There's so much red in his ledger, and on top of that, he had been reckless enough to throw away the one person who was willing to look past all of that.

He probably still is.]

It's normal to, like, wanna be around people. Even if you hate their stinkin' guts most of the time!

This doesn't have to mean more than whatever it already is.

Edited 2022-10-09 00:10 (UTC)

No shit.

[She rolls her eyes. This is stupid. But… she’s still here. Stubbornly insistent.]

I get it. That it wasn’t a big deal for you, or whatever. It wasn’t personal. You were just doing your job. But that was my life. Of course you wouldn’t get it, you’re… [She shakes her head, finally drawing back.] … special. Or whatever. But it meant everything to me. I’ve spent my whole life trying to build myself into something grand—- and almost lost everything, before I even reached it. You gave me a second chance.

So. Yeah. Because you saved me one time, I care. Whatever.

[She withdraws first, so he finally follows suit, leaning back against whatever's supporting all two-hundred-and-fifteen pounds of him. His phone buzzes and he picks it up immediately, mostly in a desperate attempt to pull himself out of the emotional funk that's not-so-slowly setting in.

It's a naughty text from Kate. Is that a nipple? Fuck.

He feels nothing.

Parker, too, is saying the kind of words he'd once thought he'd like to hear. It's a thank you, the kind of acknowledgement that should remind him of why he wanted to do this in the first place.

Still, Rex feels nothing.]

You're not gonna blast anything that happens tonight all over the internet, are ya?

And destroy my own reputation? No way. The internet would tear me apart.

[She rolls her eyes once more, collapsing backwards against the seat.]

Miss America isn’t the most scandal-friendly organization. You’d probably get clout for it, as long as I kept your identity secret. Me? I’d lose my crown, get kicked out of school… Have the entire internet call me a slut and a cape chaser…

Can I be honest? [let’s be real she’s going to keep going even if he says no—- and she’s going without waiting for a reply.]

I’m not even trying to sleep with you, right now. Like, it seems like maybe that’s what you’re into? So—- Whatever. I just… know what it’s like to be alone. And I thought…

Oh my god. This is so stupid.

Cape chaser? Ohmygawd. That's so dumb! I don't even-

[She continues discussing the very realistic and all-too-terrible flack women get for existing compared to their very scandalous male counterparts on social media and life in general...

And here Rex is, picking up the top half of his supersuit and gesturing to the back.]

See, look! No cape! That'd be a terrible costume addition for a guy who mostly flippy-flops everywhere, doesn't fly, and blows a whole buncha shit up!

[Parker continues to elaborate. Wait, sex wasn't on the agenda here? He's confused.]

Aaah.

You might as well go ahead and say it.

Edited 2022-10-09 01:54 (UTC)

You saved my life. You changed everything for me. I could be Miss Outstanding Burn Victim, or whatever. And… I barely know you. I haven’t done shit, except make it seem like you could date Miss America’s Outstanding Teen.

I hate it. I don’t want to owe anyone anything. I want my greatness on my own.

I thought… if I could force you to care about me, I could even things out. But that’s stupid. I can’t make you do anything.

CALL ME OUT

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pls don't look at me i don't know how computers and electricity all works

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