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]

[Since they've happened upon this wretched place, this dome in a superficially constructed wilderness, Rex has not gotten a lick of sleep. Perhaps compared to many of the others, he is well-equipped to survive this bloodbath of a killer's game, but something about being a kind of pawn, a thing being watched, is making it hard for him to focus on what's important- Getting the hell out of here.

The truth is, he doesn't want to hurt people. Not anymore, not if they're just prisoners too.

A campfire crackles in front of him, embers from it lighting up bits and pieces of the night sky. His shoes are off, as is the top half of his super suit, and he reaches those burly arms of his behind his head to stretch, hoping that the gesture will relieve some of his muscle pain... If only temporarily.

The big toe on Rex's right foot makes contact with the flame, and he tips his cleft chin downwards to observe. He doesn't experience any pain, and his green eyes narrow as he watches the skin on the appendage, which doesn't change color.]

Shit.

[He removes his foot from what was supposed to be harm's way, wiggling it to and fro.]

I guess that still works.

[thatsplato]

[In 1996, The Hunger Games wasn’t out yet. If it had been, Misty probably would have found it interesting, and the idea to have some potential to be thrilling—- but not nearly conniving enough. Katniss would have been too naive and goodie-goodie for her taste. She had, however, read Lord of the Flies, and enough greek tragedies to know— when you find yourself in dire situations like this, you needed to band together and make alliances.

Misty’s never been good at that.

She’s never been good at friends. But she doesn’t let that bother her. Instead, she tried to make herself indispensable and useful, so people would be forced to tolerate, and maybe even appreciate her. Being the equipment manager for the Yellowjackets. Mastering first aid. Knowing how to survive, where other girls her age did not.

So when she’d found herself in this terrible, unthinkable situation (Battle Royale wouldn’t be released until 1999, and wasn’t translated to English for much longer) she did not dwell. She jumped into action. And Misty had attached herself to the person that seemed most likely to be able to both hold his own and tolerate her. Then, she’d tried to make herself valuable—- it wasn’t working well.

That’s because someone had to have superpowers, rendering most of her first aid know how completely useless. So for the most part, she’s just been following him around and giving him big doe eyes from across the fire, occasionally offering something vaguely helpful.

It’s infuriating to her. But you wouldn’t know it, because Misty does not allow herself to waste her energy on rage. She instead lays in wait, to prove herself.

So when he stretches, and comes into contact with the fire, she sees her moment. She jumps up from across the fire, scuttling over to his side, and—-]

Oh. Right. [The whole superpower thing. She almost sounds disappointed.]

[himbomb]

[Rex is no stranger to the unwanted attention of a hormonal teenage girl, and in any other situation, he probably would've cussed her out and snidely suggested that she stay the hell away from him. But he hasn't the faintest clue about her true nature, and anything weird or potentially red-flaggy that she does is dismissed on account of her age and awkwardness. Plus, the attention is nice, and he's still nursing those metaphorical break-up wounds from back home.

Poor Misty- She has yet to see the healing factor in action. Then she's really going to hate him.

He picks up a leafy twig from the ground, holding it between his index finger and his thumb. It combusts rather quickly, turning to dust in an instant.]

Ho-ly fuck. Synthetics!

[He says, failing to provide any further explanation.

Rex's powers aren't supposed to work on real plants.]

These plants aren't even real. Or, welp, this one wasn't.