Little Cato (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
furtitude) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
longestnight2024-03-13 03:10 pm
furtitude) wrote in longestnight2024-03-13 03:10 pm
Entry tags:
Help them, Guardi-Wan Kenobis...
[Their network at the Pole just got haxxed, but to be fair, the magical network has been augmented for security by the Starfleeters to magically run on subspace and one of Little Cato's cellmates knows how to access that. Combined with Cato's 29th century hacking skills, it was piece of cake. Still, without McCoy, it would've cost Cato a lot more time - time they don't have when some of the components they stole won't last long.]
Is anyone there?
[The boy - and it's clear from his voice he is just a young teenage boy - on screen looks worse for wear, fur unkempt, clothes grimy, and scratched up and stained with dried blood in places. The two men with him aren't looking any better. They're all leaning over the comm with extreme interest. The lights above are harsh and impersonal the walls around them are clearly metallic and devoid of any decoration.]
[It's obviously a cell, with a massive, heavily armored door. The walls and door are scratched up in a way that suggest this cell has held many that tried to claw their way free.]
I don't know if you're like us, if you were from some other world and wound up on this one, and heard that voice talking about saving kids. But I'm Little Cato and this is Hellboy and Dr. McCoy. Right after we showed up here from our universes, some humans captured us. We're in some kind of secret facility. Other people that call themselves "myths" are imprisoned here and explained what they were. The humans think we're the same thing, I guess. They think we're dangerous, they're studying us.
They keep us locked up and run tests and scans on "myths." [A pause.] Or...worse. We haven't been tortured yet but it's only a matter of time. We hear screams sometimes.
We managed to steal some components and slap together this device to hack into stuff. We don't have long before the long-range transmitter burns out. Dr. McCoy recognized some parts of your broadcasting signals, though. He said it's from something called Starfleet? The organization he's in? If someone out there is from that, you need to know they've got one of your guys.
Please...
[There's a reason he decided to take point instead of having one of the others speak: Look at those big, cat eyes, shining with tears. Look at the miserable soppy preciousness. It's giving Miette energy. It's giving starving Victorian child. It's giving sad wet kitten in snow.]
[...It's also him completely hamming it up and putting on a sad kitten act because he knows someone fluffy, small, and cute, sounding super young and sad, might hit some people's guilt trip buttons, people that might be more hesitant to help otherwise. It's very convincing, too; how can you say no to those eyes? Even the small handful that knew an alternate version of Little Cato from an alternate Earth in an alternate dimensional adventure might just assume he's just that traumatized.]
Please, if you're not bad guys, if you're willing to help us, we need help, like, fast. Everyone here does.
Is anyone there?
[The boy - and it's clear from his voice he is just a young teenage boy - on screen looks worse for wear, fur unkempt, clothes grimy, and scratched up and stained with dried blood in places. The two men with him aren't looking any better. They're all leaning over the comm with extreme interest. The lights above are harsh and impersonal the walls around them are clearly metallic and devoid of any decoration.]
[It's obviously a cell, with a massive, heavily armored door. The walls and door are scratched up in a way that suggest this cell has held many that tried to claw their way free.]
I don't know if you're like us, if you were from some other world and wound up on this one, and heard that voice talking about saving kids. But I'm Little Cato and this is Hellboy and Dr. McCoy. Right after we showed up here from our universes, some humans captured us. We're in some kind of secret facility. Other people that call themselves "myths" are imprisoned here and explained what they were. The humans think we're the same thing, I guess. They think we're dangerous, they're studying us.
They keep us locked up and run tests and scans on "myths." [A pause.] Or...worse. We haven't been tortured yet but it's only a matter of time. We hear screams sometimes.
We managed to steal some components and slap together this device to hack into stuff. We don't have long before the long-range transmitter burns out. Dr. McCoy recognized some parts of your broadcasting signals, though. He said it's from something called Starfleet? The organization he's in? If someone out there is from that, you need to know they've got one of your guys.
Please...
[There's a reason he decided to take point instead of having one of the others speak: Look at those big, cat eyes, shining with tears. Look at the miserable soppy preciousness. It's giving Miette energy. It's giving starving Victorian child. It's giving sad wet kitten in snow.]
[...It's also him completely hamming it up and putting on a sad kitten act because he knows someone fluffy, small, and cute, sounding super young and sad, might hit some people's guilt trip buttons, people that might be more hesitant to help otherwise. It's very convincing, too; how can you say no to those eyes? Even the small handful that knew an alternate version of Little Cato from an alternate Earth in an alternate dimensional adventure might just assume he's just that traumatized.]
Please, if you're not bad guys, if you're willing to help us, we need help, like, fast. Everyone here does.
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but.
It is very awkward to have this conversation happening right in front of him while he's here to help. ]
Hey, uh, maybe this is a bad time for introductions, but hi! I just got here yesterday. My name is Apollo.
[ He lifts his golden bow as if to say, You know, THAT Apollo. ]
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[He thinks about what he said for half a second, but seems otherwise unphased as he moves to another box:]
It's nice to meet a different version of the other guy, thanks for being willing to help - since I assume that's the reason you're here instead of running off to do god stuff - but also, when it comes to the versions of the Greek gods from this world...
I said what I said.
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I mean, you aren't wrong. When this is all over I will happily trash talk my family with you, now that I am well out of their reach. By all means, continue.
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But hearing that Apollo Apollo is willing to trash talk the rest?
(Most of the Greek gods are assholes. Sorry, Cassie. Whereever you are.) ]
So if I said Ares is a shit-stirrer who needs a hobby.
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[ Okay, maybe it wasn't his entire ass, but it was still an absolute riot. ]
I hope not. Can't imagine him getting chosen to come here.
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I don't think people who identify as gods generally excel at learning from their mistakes.