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

[himbomb]

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.

[misspitbull]

… 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.]

[himbomb]

[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.

[misspitbull]

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?

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

[himbomb]

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!

[misspitbull]

[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?

[himbomb]

[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.

[misspitbull]

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.

[himbomb]

[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.

[misspitbull]

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.

[himbomb]

[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?

[misspitbull]

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.

[himbomb]

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.

[misspitbull]

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.

[himbomb]

[His mouth hangs open in surprise, and although he almost launches into the fact that he was the one Cecil had specifically assigned to this gig, partly because it would avoid squandering precious resources.

But he resists, for now.]

I it you've never owed money to a bookie?

Or, you did, so that's why now you don't-

[It's a pitiful attempt at a joke.]

Nevermind.

Look, to get to the top, everybody needs a little help. Before he went batshit crazy, even Omni-Man had a wife and a kid! Doin' it all by yourself is impossible, pretty much.

Also? It really sucks.

[misspitbull]

… No. My dad’s kind of loaded with cash. Spoiled rich girl, remember?

[She says it bitterly, resisting the urge to gnaw on her cheek. She hates that, too—- like acknowledging her privilege will somehow invalidate the hustle she’s poured into every second of her life. But she does it anyway.]

Is he really a great example? I feel like he’s a bad example. … And what sucks?

[himbomb]

[Omni-Man? Oh, absolutely.]

Doin' it all on your own.

Some of us didn't have a choice for a while.

A long while.

[misspitbull]

Oh. That. [She’s catching onto what he’s throwing down. And she gives a little shrug.]

Are you… still doing it on your own?

[himbomb]

Oh hell no.

[Surprisingly, Rex's dialogue is frightfully candid.]

That's why I work with a team now!

You can't slack off that hard when you're by yourself. Look, if I'm on a squad, I can get drunk and stack milk cartons in a boozy haze while the others cover for my dumb ass!

Also, being part of a crew means that there always has to be a headquarters, which means free room and board, baby!

I'm never goin' solo. They can't make me!