Better than mine. I stole some beat up station wagon as a getaway car. Worked out though, no one suspects the person in a beige station wagon.
I wanna lie and say my Camaro was silver, but really it didn't have any paint. Coulda been real sweet if I ever had the time to fix it up. But then I had to go and get myself killed which kinda delayed that little project.
Can't stand not being the one behind the wheel. Everyone drives too slow. And I thought I was giving you plenty of rides already.
I died saving the world. No one fucking believes me, but I did. Didn't work out too well for me. Everyone should learn from my mistakes: becoming a good guy is a load of fucking bullshit.
I believe you. Before I got here, I was up to my neck in the same crap. Running around after do-gooders in spandex trying to save the world. Half the job was keeping those idiots alive.
Those hero types have zero survival instinct. They wanna die in the name of the cause and be the next Mother Theresa. Idiots.
Did you wake up here? I've been trying to decide if we're in post-modern hell.
That's them exactly, they're almost fighting each other to be the one to get killed saving the place. Which didn't do much good since almost everyone got themselves dead at the end anyway. You know how shitty it is to die for the world and know it didn't even fucking matter? Cuz I do.
No. I woke up in the Netherrealm and... You know what, this is all going to sound fucking insane so I'd rather not explain what a shitbag Quan Chi is over text.
[He waits a bit, staring down at his fancy phone and wondering if he actually wants to talk about this. It's not like it's some big secret, Carlisle knew. That weird girl fucking Peter knew. But it's a little different telling Len. Someone who would judge him and it might matter a teensy bit somewhere in his burnt husk of a soul.
Eventually he does call him, sitting on a bench overlooking the barren wasteland outside Anchor. Time to air some dirty laundry in public.]
Whatever kind of tv show drama bullshit you think this is gonna be, it's really not.
[Funny. Len's leaning against a wall on the other side of the colony, staring out into the horizon. They're looking at the same picturesque view at opposing angles.
Sand and death as far as the eye can see.]
My bar is low. They don't get the good soap operas here.
[You bet your ass he watches Passion. It's chaos in a TV show.]
[He kicks up his feet on a railing because he's a model citizen over here.]
After I died, which I really don't recommend doing in the first place, I woke up in the Netherrealm. Which is like Hell I guess. Except real. And full of assholes.
Because this douchebag of a sorcerer, Quan Chi, raised everyone back as revenants. Me. My NYPD partner. The rest of the guys trying to save the world who died. A dozen of us.
If you filled the grand canyon with guts and set parts of it on fire, a little like that. It's got all these kind of rock formations and dirt. There's a beach but it's against a sea of blood so it looks and smells like ass.
You know that deer thing that follows me around? I had something similar back there. But bigger. And on fire. That's kinda a theme: blood and fire. But it's overdone - no imagination.
So me, but dead, and can't eat or sleep cuz you know, dead. And gotta do that assholes bidding. I'm still fucking pissed I didn't get to see Scorpion chop his head off.
Couldn't really feel pain though. So that's a plus.
[Couldn't feel anything but that's not the point.]
Unoriginal, much? Satan needs to hire an interior designer, because that's just sad.
I want to be shocked and appalled when I go to Hell. Not bored.
What's the point if you don't feel like you've earned it?
[There's a lot to unpack in what Kabal said. Len isn't directly approaching the worst of it on purpose. He can't imagine what that kind of helplessness would feel like.
Len's closest experience would be childhood, living under his father's thumb. A lock-picking puppet and convenient punching-bag. The difference being, his personal hell wasn't entirely without light. There were moments of joy with Lisa, and excitement in learning a trade he not only enjoyed, but was very good at.
Being able to talk back, or climb out the window when he wanted to, even if it meant he lost his baby teeth early, was its own kind of freedom.
He's quiet for a moment, but doesn't take too long to pipe back up. Doesn't let the moment fall into awkward silence.]
Maybe you didn't win his creepy little game of Dungeons & Douchebags, but neither did he.
There's probably some lower, crappier level of hell that's just waiting on hold with telemarketers, waking up naked in public, and being forced to watch all the ways you've ever embarrassed yourself on candid camera, with yakety-sax playing in the background.
That's where the real pricks gotta go. He's probably sharing a single with my old man.
It's probably shocking to ladies on the PTA, but not really for anyone who's ever killed someone.
Yeah, but it would be nice to see his head mounted on a wall somewhere. So I could piss on it.
[There's more to say there, like the fact that Quan Chi being dead means there's no way to reverse what was done to him. They need his magic to undo it. So Kabal is kinda.. stuck like this. Forever. Or until Raiden finds a way to fix it which hasn't been high on his priorities.
Even in death he's surrounded by assholes and morons.]
I'm definitely glad I sprung for the not-dead with hot roommate package. Significant upgrade over the last place.
Turn his head into a urinal. Put the tutorial on Pinterest. Start a side-hustle in humiliation-specific taxidermy. Get rich doing what you love.
Making every douche who's ever looked sideways at you regret the day they were born.
The simple things are what make life worth living.
[They're talking around the real ugliness of the situation, and that's fine with Len. He gets it. Kabal isn't looking to get his boo-boos kissed (though Len's done plenty of that at this point), he wants to get shit off his chest. Without the embarrassment and smothering attention of a pity-party.
Len knows because he's been there. Is still there, when something or someone ugly reminds him of his father, and life before he was independent.]
A hot roommate ain't a bad reason either.
Glad I didn't croak before we knocked boots. No one wants to die a virgin.
[He doesn't know what Pinterest is, the internet is pretty terrible in the Netherrealm, and he's 20 years behind on TV. His suffering is truly endless.]
I knew I liked you. Making 'em all regret it is high up on my to-do list for when I'm not trapped in Logan's Run or whatever this is. I was thinking of slicing them into chunks, but you might be onto something with the leather jackets out of their hide and poseable sculptures for people to admire.
[He's glad they're just.. avoiding all the deep shit he dropped a moment ago. Now it's out there and he can never talk about it again. Being dead wasn't fun, but he's not gonna mope over it (nor deal with it in any sort of healthy way) and now that he's alive again he's going to keep it that way. ]
Yeah just two guys in their forties having their first time. Nothing to see here.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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You know some high end rich folks. I'm lucky if the people paying out even bathe.
[And arms dealers rarely care about fancy game ranches or have ivory chairs. ]
Maybe. I broke a lot of that shit on the way in though.
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What am I going to steal off a poor chump, their analog TV?
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That's a hobby, not a job.
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This outfit probably cost more than my car. Feels fucking weird.
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You have a car?
I'm moving up in the world.
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I had a car. It's probably junked now.
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What was it. Some rust bucket of a caddy?
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It was a Camaro.
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Black. Racing stripes. I was 16.
It was the most bad-ass car I'd ever seen.
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I wanna lie and say my Camaro was silver, but really it didn't have any paint. Coulda been real sweet if I ever had the time to fix it up. But then I had to go and get myself killed which kinda delayed that little project.
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Never did get around to taking my road test.
[Since Kabal is getting all honest on him...]
I like cars more than I like to drive. Riding shotgun is fine by me. Fast is fast.
Maybe you could give me a ride sometime.
Providing you didn't kill yourself in a car accident.
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I died saving the world. No one fucking believes me, but I did. Didn't work out too well for me. Everyone should learn from my mistakes: becoming a good guy is a load of fucking bullshit.
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I believe you. Before I got here, I was up to my neck in the same crap. Running around after do-gooders in spandex trying to save the world. Half the job was keeping those idiots alive.
Those hero types have zero survival instinct. They wanna die in the name of the cause and be the next Mother Theresa. Idiots.
Did you wake up here? I've been trying to decide if we're in post-modern hell.
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That's them exactly, they're almost fighting each other to be the one to get killed saving the place. Which didn't do much good since almost everyone got themselves dead at the end anyway. You know how shitty it is to die for the world and know it didn't even fucking matter? Cuz I do.
No. I woke up in the Netherrealm and... You know what, this is all going to sound fucking insane so I'd rather not explain what a shitbag Quan Chi is over text.
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[Badum tch.]
You know how to work a phone.
Call me or don't. Either way, I wanna hear the dirt on that Quan Chi douchebag.
Anyone who says they don't love drama is a liar.
-> Audio
[He waits a bit, staring down at his fancy phone and wondering if he actually wants to talk about this. It's not like it's some big secret, Carlisle knew. That weird girl fucking Peter knew. But it's a little different telling Len. Someone who would judge him and it might matter a teensy bit somewhere in his burnt husk of a soul.
Eventually he does call him, sitting on a bench overlooking the barren wasteland outside Anchor. Time to air some dirty laundry in public.]
Whatever kind of tv show drama bullshit you think this is gonna be, it's really not.
Re: -> Audio
Sand and death as far as the eye can see.]
My bar is low. They don't get the good soap operas here.
[You bet your ass he watches Passion. It's chaos in a TV show.]
And I don't got anything better to do.
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[He kicks up his feet on a railing because he's a model citizen over here.]
After I died, which I really don't recommend doing in the first place, I woke up in the Netherrealm. Which is like Hell I guess. Except real. And full of assholes.
Because this douchebag of a sorcerer, Quan Chi, raised everyone back as revenants. Me. My NYPD partner. The rest of the guys trying to save the world who died. A dozen of us.
And it fucking sucked.
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Mick and I had a bet. He said Skid-row, I said soccer practice for a Christian youth league.
[Len has folded himself up some way or another. He doesn't know how to sit like a normal human. Always has to have at least one leggy out.]
The hell is a revenant, anyway? A pissed off ghost? Was the worst part being stuck with those yahoos for the rest of eternity?
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You know that deer thing that follows me around? I had something similar back there. But bigger. And on fire. That's kinda a theme: blood and fire. But it's overdone - no imagination.
So me, but dead, and can't eat or sleep cuz you know, dead. And gotta do that assholes bidding. I'm still fucking pissed I didn't get to see Scorpion chop his head off.
Couldn't really feel pain though. So that's a plus.
[Couldn't feel anything but that's not the point.]
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I want to be shocked and appalled when I go to Hell. Not bored.
What's the point if you don't feel like you've earned it?
[There's a lot to unpack in what Kabal said. Len isn't directly approaching the worst of it on purpose. He can't imagine what that kind of helplessness would feel like.
Len's closest experience would be childhood, living under his father's thumb. A lock-picking puppet and convenient punching-bag. The difference being, his personal hell wasn't entirely without light. There were moments of joy with Lisa, and excitement in learning a trade he not only enjoyed, but was very good at.
Being able to talk back, or climb out the window when he wanted to, even if it meant he lost his baby teeth early, was its own kind of freedom.
He's quiet for a moment, but doesn't take too long to pipe back up. Doesn't let the moment fall into awkward silence.]
Maybe you didn't win his creepy little game of Dungeons & Douchebags, but neither did he.
There's probably some lower, crappier level of hell that's just waiting on hold with telemarketers, waking up naked in public, and being forced to watch all the ways you've ever embarrassed yourself on candid camera, with yakety-sax playing in the background.
That's where the real pricks gotta go. He's probably sharing a single with my old man.
And you're here, sharing a king with me.
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Yeah, but it would be nice to see his head mounted on a wall somewhere. So I could piss on it.
[There's more to say there, like the fact that Quan Chi being dead means there's no way to reverse what was done to him. They need his magic to undo it. So Kabal is kinda.. stuck like this. Forever. Or until Raiden finds a way to fix it which hasn't been high on his priorities.
Even in death he's surrounded by assholes and morons.]
I'm definitely glad I sprung for the not-dead with hot roommate package. Significant upgrade over the last place.
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Turn his head into a urinal. Put the tutorial on Pinterest. Start a side-hustle in humiliation-specific taxidermy. Get rich doing what you love.
Making every douche who's ever looked sideways at you regret the day they were born.
The simple things are what make life worth living.
[They're talking around the real ugliness of the situation, and that's fine with Len. He gets it. Kabal isn't looking to get his boo-boos kissed (though Len's done plenty of that at this point), he wants to get shit off his chest. Without the embarrassment and smothering attention of a pity-party.
Len knows because he's been there. Is still there, when something or someone ugly reminds him of his father, and life before he was independent.]
A hot roommate ain't a bad reason either.
Glad I didn't croak before we knocked boots. No one wants to die a virgin.
[Insert laugh track here.]
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I knew I liked you. Making 'em all regret it is high up on my to-do list for when I'm not trapped in Logan's Run or whatever this is. I was thinking of slicing them into chunks, but you might be onto something with the leather jackets out of their hide and poseable sculptures for people to admire.
[He's glad they're just.. avoiding all the deep shit he dropped a moment ago. Now it's out there and he can never talk about it again. Being dead wasn't fun, but he's not gonna mope over it (nor deal with it in any sort of healthy way) and now that he's alive again he's going to keep it that way. ]
Yeah just two guys in their forties having their first time. Nothing to see here.
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