chato ❝ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʙᴇ ᴀ ʙɪᴛᴄʜ, ᴅɪᴀʙʟᴏ❞ santana 🔥 (
arsiento) wrote in
maskormenace2016-10-04 07:48 pm
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Entry tags:
- harleen quinzel | harley quinn,
- jonathan crane | scarecrow,
- joseph kavinsky | n/a,
- † bianca reyes | n/a,
- † chato santana | el diablo,
- † frederick chilton | chief of staff!!,
- † hemali | n/a,
- † isaac gates | felix,
- † jack | n/a,
- † james jesse | the trickster,
- † kaidan alenko | sentinel,
- † mick rory | heat wave,
- † sally mckenna | hypodermic sally,
- † sam ortez | locus,
- † yuri petrov | lunatic
𝜤 🔥 video
[ The feed turns on shakily and abruptly, showing at first a view of mostly sky, but then it catches more blurry glimpses of scenery -- what might be recognizable as downtown Nonah, if someone were to squint or was just very familiar with the area by now -- as it moves again, as if being wrestled from someone. Voices can be heard above the fainter sounds of traffic, although there's the steady pulse of a nearby car stereo playing loudly and, occasionally, an engine revving.
Then the communicator steadies, being held at its owner's side; the camera now gives an un-aimed view the street, though at a somewhat diagonal, catching about half of the car in question in the shot. A guy's voice, about a foot away, says: "--the sickest shit I ever seen, man! Orale, show the guy, Angie!" And then the communicator moves again, the man holding it taking a step back as Angie breathes fire about five feet into the air. Only the fire and not Angie herself is visible on the screen, although within moments the speaker is stepping close again.
"You see that? It's legit, right? Just one selfie, man! Just one, come on!" ]
Then what, you'll finally beat it? [ Diablo's not speaking into the communicator, obviously, so his voice is muted, though still audible. ] I got nothing to say about no heroes, kid. Whatever you want? It ain't got nothing to do with me.
[ "Yeah, yeah, whatever! Damn, why you got to be such a bummer, dude?" The communicator raises again, rotating around to show two people: #1, a heavily tattooed man in a letterman-style jacket, "Diablo" embroidered on it like a nametag, looking impatiently at #2, who appears to be a teenager with slicked back hair ("AA" shaved into the sides), a lightning bolt tattoo on his neck, and large mirrored sunglasses. ]
Okay, how--
[ But, smiling delightedly, the boy waves into the camera, declaring: "Heeeey, imPorts! Que onda, stay crazy, guys -- we still believe in you! We got your backs now, so take it easy! Ride or die, man!" before he laughs and runs out of frame to join his off-screen friends; the car motor revs again. Diablo, still holding the communicator, does nothing for a moment except flick his eyes irritably and skeptically in that direction, then turns the camera around to capture the kids driving away. The car's plate reads "DOUBLE A". ]
Man, the hell was that. [ And now the camera once again rotates, his skeptical gaze gracing the screen. ] If that's what you all got around here, then no wonder they be importing in heroes like furniture.
[ Well... "heroes," as the still-dubious expression on his face may go on to suggest. He shrugs, then shakes his head. ]
But hey, y'know-- it's whatever. Anyone know where's a good shoe place around here?
Then the communicator steadies, being held at its owner's side; the camera now gives an un-aimed view the street, though at a somewhat diagonal, catching about half of the car in question in the shot. A guy's voice, about a foot away, says: "--the sickest shit I ever seen, man! Orale, show the guy, Angie!" And then the communicator moves again, the man holding it taking a step back as Angie breathes fire about five feet into the air. Only the fire and not Angie herself is visible on the screen, although within moments the speaker is stepping close again.
"You see that? It's legit, right? Just one selfie, man! Just one, come on!" ]
Then what, you'll finally beat it? [ Diablo's not speaking into the communicator, obviously, so his voice is muted, though still audible. ] I got nothing to say about no heroes, kid. Whatever you want? It ain't got nothing to do with me.
[ "Yeah, yeah, whatever! Damn, why you got to be such a bummer, dude?" The communicator raises again, rotating around to show two people: #1, a heavily tattooed man in a letterman-style jacket, "Diablo" embroidered on it like a nametag, looking impatiently at #2, who appears to be a teenager with slicked back hair ("AA" shaved into the sides), a lightning bolt tattoo on his neck, and large mirrored sunglasses. ]
Okay, how--
[ But, smiling delightedly, the boy waves into the camera, declaring: "Heeeey, imPorts! Que onda, stay crazy, guys -- we still believe in you! We got your backs now, so take it easy! Ride or die, man!" before he laughs and runs out of frame to join his off-screen friends; the car motor revs again. Diablo, still holding the communicator, does nothing for a moment except flick his eyes irritably and skeptically in that direction, then turns the camera around to capture the kids driving away. The car's plate reads "DOUBLE A". ]
Man, the hell was that. [ And now the camera once again rotates, his skeptical gaze gracing the screen. ] If that's what you all got around here, then no wonder they be importing in heroes like furniture.
[ Well... "heroes," as the still-dubious expression on his face may go on to suggest. He shrugs, then shakes his head. ]
But hey, y'know-- it's whatever. Anyone know where's a good shoe place around here?
Video;
Speaking of new, you just got imported, huh? Welcome to the club.
no subject
[ He squints again, head tilting slightly. It's the kind of greeting that it'd be polite to say "thanks" or something to, but: ]
Some club though, huh?
no subject
Some club. Everybody gets a membership whether they like it or not, so may as well make the best of it.
no subject
[ He feels like he's been hearing that a lot lately. Sure, okay, but... sounds fake, tbh. ]
That's optimistic. How you gonna do that, man?
no subject
Make sure not to make things worse, honestly.
no subject
Yeah? Good luck. [ Said just a bit dryly. ] I mean, when's it ever work out that way?
no subject
[ He's trying here, okay? ]
Not the optimistic sort, huh?
no subject
Just trying to be realistic, homie. You wanna be disappointed, though, that your business.
no subject
He knows it's better for everyone that he stays positive. But maybe don't say that. ]
We got dealt a bad hand, I ain't gonna force you to like it.
no subject
[ ... Well... ]
It is what it is, you know? Ain't have to be about good or bad.
no subject
That's fair. More'n fair.
[ Then he smiles. ]
Name's Mick, by the way.
no subject
[ He nods, but doesn't smile back; just not much of a smiler, that's all. ]
Diablo.
no subject
Could be much worse. Trust me.
[ One does not forget when one went to Literal Hell. ]
no subject
Don't have to -- trust me. [ With a shrug: ] Ain't no bright side, just a fact.