paradisa | [One - Swish Stab Stab.] [Accidentally Dictated Action]

[The first sound being recorded by Tucker's journal is simply a groan of pain. Of course, with Tucker, of course there was followed by a long string of - ]

Mother fucking fuck berries of fucking tosh fuckity ... and ow. Mother fucking ow.

[Tucker sat up in the middle of the garden of Cair Paradisa, feeling his eyes cross in his helmet, before he shook his head a little.] Shit, I really got to get off the 'get hit unconscious by the crazy bitch' train. Nurgh.

[Then he looked around, really around the garden. Then up at the castle.] ...shit. I've gotten hit so hard I've gone back to the fucking Medieval Ages. Shitfuckdamn, whose head am I in? If this is Caboose's head, then Church is right, this is the weirdest fucking happy place on Earth.

[He checked himself.] Welp, personal inventory time. Armor, check. Super-awesome sword, check. Big-ass gun, check. Weird ass journal that seems ... to be ... recording all the words I'm saying ...

[Blink. Blink.] ... and just when I didn't think this shit could get any weirder? It does.

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You have no fucking idea.

[Oh it's going to get weirder Tucker, it's going to get weirder.]

You know Church?

Holy fuck. The book is fucking talking back.

How exactly do you know Church and Caboose?

[...No kidding.]

... and now the book is asking me about Church ... [hm.] You're not another one of his ex-girlfriends, are you?

...and now it's asking me, in another form of hand-writing, about my fucking team-mates. [He shook it a little.] Listen, if this is another Freelancer, alien-technology fuck-with-Tucker's-head-fest, you're about to get a sword where the sun don't shine, dickwad.

[Hell no.]

Does he have a lot of those? For some reason I'm not surprised.

[Right, well, that's a relief. The talking book was not an ex-girlfriend of Church's. Things were already looking up.]

Just the one I know about - I think Tex would have slapped the hell out of anyone else who tried. She's fond of her idiot.

[He shook his head.] ... can't believe I'm talking to a book about my best friend. I must have one hell of a concussion.

Sure fucking is.

Edited 2013-07-30 03:16 (UTC)

Worse. It's a magic journal from a magic castle.

Great. I bet this is another Freelancer fuck-fest. All right, Book, where the fuck am I?

[Blink. Blink blink.]

...I can't be this scrambled. There's no such thing as magic, except for like, the fucking unicorns that dance around in Caboose's head.

And wait, how the hell did you know Church and Caboose, you ... not-magical book?

[He's just going to roll with the fact that Tucker thinks he's a talking book. He'd much rather make fun of Church than actually explain anything right now.]

And I can't believe you're best friends with that idiot.

[He's going to start judging you soon Tucker.]

Well I obviously can't fucking tell where you are specifically, I'm just a book. In general? The fuck if I know. All I've been told is that it's an evil sentient castle that grabs people from all over the place and generally fucks with them.

[Tucker snorted as he pushed himself to his feet, looking around the garden. What else is he supposed to think? Alien technology made a talking bowling ball out of Church, after all.]

Church isn't an idiot. He's a fucking whiny ass bitch who takes on the world's problems all by himself, but he's no idiot.

[A pause, and then Tucker shook the journal a little.] And who are you to fucking judge? You're a fucking talking diary that can't even decide what handwriting to stay in.

Great, the fucking book is as useful as Andy the Bomb. [Tucker was moving around the garden now, sword in hand.] So ... if it's grabbing people, did it take them through a portal? And if it did, why am I not covered in black crap?

[He was always covered in black crap after a transport. Stupid transporters.]

I'm not a book. We just all get these things and use them to communicate. I'm Meg. I'm probably pretty useless for information since I've only been here for a week or so, but I'll agree that it's all super fucking weird.

As far as your transport goes, I wouldn't go assuming that you came by any means that you're familiar with. This is pretty much a whole other dimension.

You called him one first.

[Huh. Well that's certainly not the description of Church he was expecting. To be honest; he had seen some signs of it, not that he'd ever admit that.]

[Blink, blink.] ... you mean to tell me we've been kidnapped by some fucking sentient power with the ability to like, pull us from other planets, but it can't come up with a more complicated and sleek communications device than this cracked out old book?

[He shook his head.] Now I know I'm fucked.

Hey, I earned that right. I survived through half a dozen of his half-baked grand plans. And by the by, I know thiis a journal, so who the hell are you?

[Sigh] Yup. It's bullshit. I actually don't mind as much since I was in deep back home, but it's still bullshit.

And yeah. Basically. It's not entirely horrible though.

[He was hoping to have a bit more fun with you Tucker, Oh well.]

Just someone who's had to put up with his crap for awhile now, no one important.

Yeah? [He thinks about this - Meg is a girl's name. Maybe she's a hot girl.] So ... what, there's plenty of food and sweet women who want to have a little more Tucker in their lives?

Does that mean you're a Freelancer? Because that's pretty much the only kind of people Church puts up any kind of shit from.

No. I'm not a magic book or a freelancer. You're free to keep guessing.

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