foolishwren | 008. Video

008. Video

_{[When the screen comes on, it's pointed straight at the sky-- specifically, at the deep, smoke-gray thunderheads starting to roll in. The foliage just peeking over the bottom of the screen's view is whipping around in a frenzy, buffeted by the foreboding winds that have sprung up in the face of the storm.]

[Heather's voice then cuts in over the roar of weather. She's YELLING to make herself heard.]}

Can you BELIEVE this!?

Can you friggin' believe this?!

All day yesterday I'm slogging along through the heat and then the moment I get to the city to actually chill around in civilization, THIS happ--

_{[A handful or so of wet leaves is quite suddenly plastered against the camera lens. Thank you, 60 mph wind. Thank you]}

Ackplthh--!!

_{[... And apparently Heather was hit in the face by several, too.]}

PLHHHFFLT! If I have to spend another week sitting in the Pokemon Center in order not to drown, I am gonna...... oh boy.

_{[Aaaand here comes the rolling wall of pure downpour. The camera turns sharply and any viewers still watching are treated to a tilta-whirl of grass, dirt, a running Sentret, and occasionally Heather's boots as she high-tails it away from the rain. THAT'S RIGHT, HEATHER. IF YOU RUN FAST ENOUGH, YOU CAN OUTRUN NATURE.]

[Eventually the video feed cuts out.]}

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_{[Oh, that only made the smirk bigger.]}

The horses here are pretty much made of fire, so I think I'll pass.

_{[NEW ACTIVITY: avoid moping over the Pokegear by being an enormous pain in the ass.]

[Heather turned around in her seat so that she could fold her arms across the back of it, still smirking like a fiend.]}

Caught in the rain, huh?

[Scowl.]

Your powers of observation amaze me.

[He took off his socks to wring yet another small lake out of them.]

Well, it's what I do... observe, amaze... y'know.

So ... you really weren't lying when you said you always dressed like that, huh? .... I'm pretty sure a shirt would at least, y'know, help while getting rained on and stuff.

Tch. It would have just been one more soaking wet article of clothing on me.

[What he needed was a jacket. Yeah, a big, leather trenchcoat that would billow impressively with every breeze. That would totally be badass.]

[He pulled a small towel out of his pack to start drying off his hair ~~his precious hair~~.]

Well by that logic, you might as well just run around naked.

Get in tune with nature and stuff. Flower power. Write some poetry.

_{[Nnnnot that she particularly wanted big burly naked dudes running around. Eyecandy was all fine and good but there WAS a line to be crossed.]}

....I'll pass.

[He didn't particularly want to go flashing his assets all over the place, either.]

[Have a really dry look, Heather.]

If you really must have an explanation, I don't wear a shirt because it would hinder my movements when I fight.

_{[That got a quirked brow.]}

Really? ... Never bothers ME when I have to fight.

Quite frankly, my fighting is a lot more technical than yours. I've been trained in eight different forms of hand-to-hand combat styles, along with practically every kind of conventional weaponry available.

[He started drying of his arms and chest.]

Something that may not seem like a hindrance to you could be significant to me, and there's more benefit to me in foregoing it than in keeping it for what little defense it would provide.

[Tl;dr-- I'm too badass for my shirt.]

_{[It was true-- Liquid knew his stuff. Heather was a completely different kind of fighter. And normally she might have taken a little offense at that-- but she's too happy being a total pain in the ass right now.]}

Doesn't it get cold?

Not particularly.

[Liquid could tolerate extremes without a problem-- from subzero Alaskan temperatures to the boiling heat of the Iraqi desert.]

... Man, are you a mutant or something?

No. A clone, actually.

[Yes, he is totally serious.]

_{[Heather laughed. Yeah, she thought it was a joke. Naturally.]}

Oh. WELL. That explains things.

[Liquid isn't laughing.]

[>|]

[And by that look you're getting right now, Heather, it's obvious that he wasn't joking.]

_{[Ahaha...ahhhh oh.]}

... You're serious?

Yes, I bloody well am.

[Way to go, Heather. Way to go.]

_{[She holds both hands up.]}

Whoa, jeez, sorry. It's just that when most people talk about clones, they're talking... crazy sci-fi stuff.

_{[... Really, Heather was in no position to not believe in clones. She was the reincarnation of her world's equivalent of 'Carrie'. And to top it all off, technically the Mother of God. You'd think she'd have learned to suspend disbelief a little by this point.]}

[Well, quit poking fun at his origin story if you don't want him to get all pissy at you.]

Tch, it's hardly science fiction. My brother and I were cloned in the 1970's.

_{[HEY SHE DIDN'T KNOW, OK. JEEZ LOUISE.]}

... The seventies, huh. They got started earlier than I thought. _{[The conspiracy theorists were RIGHT.]}

... Anyway, yeah, sorry.

[In the MGS world, they usually are.]

Hn. You didn't know.

[It's too late, though: you've gotten him started. There's only one way this can end.]

On August 21, 1972, the American government saw the success of the Les Enfants Terribles project, by which they managed to clone the world's greatest soldier in order to preserve the genetics that made him excel on the field of battle.

[Got that? Good. Here comes the batshit crazy.]

There were eight embryos made from the donor cells, six of which were sacrificed for the strength of the remaining two. Accomplices to murder before birth.

One of those sons was given that soldier's dominant genes, so that he would be the superior of the two and bear his father's legacy, destined to bear the torch of his predecessor-- made in the image of the father. The other was given the recessive genes, formed of the scraps left behind from his twin, the refuge and the trash, destined by his very genes to nothing but failure and defeat. Doomed from before his birth to be inferior, to be the lesser, to be the darkness to his brother's light. And aware, every day, of his own inferiority, of the cursed genes that kept him from glory. Cast from paradise before he had even had the chance to strive for the throne of the father.

[Yeah, he's not bitter. Not at all.]

_{[Heather likes Liquid well enough. Sure, he's a grumpy jerkface, but hey, so is she sometimes.]

[But this right here is a self-righteous, delusional rant, purple-prosey and just slightly disturbing. Has Heather heard ones like it before? ... Yes. Many times, from many people, all of whom were dangerous, crazy, and wound up dead. A few of them at her hands. So when Liquid launches into his monologue, Heather actually.... leans away, her brows furrowing. It may not be a religious rant, but... when you get right down to it, is there much of a difference? Crazy is crazy.]}

...

[Quite frankly, Liquid is dangerous, crazy, and will eventually wind up dead. The different probably is that he realizes this.]

[He looked over at her when he was done.]

You think I'm mad.

[He never claimed to be sane.]

...Smart girl.

_{[That is a pretty big difference. ... And a fortunate one, really. If you're gonna be crazy, it at least pays to know it.]

[When she answers, it's one of her usual slightly-smartassed replies, but there is an uncharacteristic meekness to her voice.]}

Just a little.

_{[To be fair, even THAT batshitlicious rant had nothing on some of the ones she'd heard before. ... But man, if he started talking about God and salvation and opening the gates to paradise and purging the world of the filthy sinners, she was outta there.]}

[Don't worry, Liquid was entirely an atheist. He'd seen and done far too many things to have ever had faith.]

[They say that there are no atheists in foxholes, but he was one of the exceptions.]

You should. Sanity was never one of my great virtues.

_{[Heather relaxes a little. Admitting insanity, at least when done in a generally, y'know, accepting way, tended to be a good sign. As opposed to the whole 'I'M NOT THE ONE WHO'S CRAZY!!! IT'S EVERYONE ELSE WHO'S CRAZY!!!" shtick she's heard so many times before.]}

Hey, at least you admit it.

Too many people don't.

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