zoning | ʀᴇᴅ ʜᴏᴏᴅ ʀᴀᴅɪᴏ; ʙʀᴏᴀᴅᴄᴀsᴛ 1

ʀᴇᴅ ʜᴏᴏᴅ ʀᴀᴅɪᴏ; ʙʀᴏᴀᴅᴄᴀsᴛ 1

Good morning, 'joys and boys, this is your favorite deejay-slash-local nerd-slash-informant, Red Hood, proudly presenting yet another broadcast from WKIL-109 FMX. Been a while, I know you all missed me to bits and pieces!

For anyone listening, the weather sucks, and that's the closest you're getting to a forecast, because I'm not a meteorologist and that's not my job. [ You can practically hear the grin in his voice as Red Hood slides across his broadcasting setup, tapping away at some sort of machine--either to play tracks, or to do something else entirely. This is becoming a weekly thing, and his position as, literally, shock jockey, is one that Red's attached to, dangerous or not. ]

What is actually my job is to play some ridiculously shiny tunes for you guys while you're off triumphing over evil, which I'll get to in a minute, after we talk about the other kinds of tracks on the radio.

I'm taking all callers for the next two hours. Update me on your position, and I'll update you on who's on your back. Keep safe out there, because if you're surviving acid rain, might as well survive being a revolutionary. I'm keeping an eye out for the Big Bad Wolf--this is Red Hood, over and out. Let's get this thing rolling.

[With that said, he turns up a loud song and sits back, radio mic resting on his chest, feet kicked up on the desk. ]

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[She's managed to hide out in the metal head for long enough without a Draculoid finding her yet, and she pulls the radio close to her chest, speaking quietly. Hopefully the metallic sounds won't give her away too much.]

I'm called Canal Cat. In...

[Where was the Nest again? She had to think hard, her mind was clouding.]

Zone 3.

Hey there, Canal Cat. [ Wow, she sounds young. ] Welcome to the broadcast. Gimme like two seconds and I got your back.

[ There's a moment of "silence"--you can hear Red talking quietly into another doom box, like he's touching base with someone, then he returns to the call, turning down the music a touch to talk to her. ] Right now, there are three dracs in Zone 3, but they're spread around--looks like they're wandering around looking for something, Cat. Sounds like you're hiding out somewhere safe, but you should probably get someone in your group to run a watch every now and then, got me?

Okay.

[Her mother always scolded her for not thanking people properly. Even in a place like the Zones, she said, it was good to know your manners. You never knew who or what would be after you, and if you minded your p's and q's, it just might save your life.

But it didn't save theirs.

She lies through her teeth as she speaks back to him.]

I've taken first watch.

[ Red's mouth draws into a line, and he fidgets his fingers a little. Something's not right here. Maybe it's the fact that the girl is answering the line alone--that she sounds so frightened.

The fact is that maybe she's the only survivor of that horrible massacre a couple days ago. Clearing his throat, he adjusts the microphone. ] There are all kinds of things out there, and the last thing I think anyone wants is a Cat to get snagged, no matter how sharp its claws are.

But they've got to die, Red. They must.

[She's speaking quietly, and he might even be able to hear the rustling sounds her jacket makes as she turns from side to side, keeping a lookout and practically praying, to any gods that can hear her, that they don't find her, too. It's the last thing she needs.]

Believe me, I am one thousand percent on board that train. [ For a minute, he thinks of his mom, and shakes his head. ] But you don't wanna end up in a body bag before that happens.

Especially because I think you sound like quite the badass. [ He smiles a little on the other end; ponders sending Big Bad her way. ]

I definitely couldn't tough it without Batgirl and Robin at my side. My friends became my family, cause that's what we all gotta do is take care of each other. And you've gotta find someone you can take care of, too.

Until then, I'm right here with you, padawan.

[She's listening to what he says and taking it to heart, every word. It really was true what Grey Wind said about this DJ, though. He was smart, and he knew where the Dracs were almost as soon as they were spotted, somehow. She always thought it was Batgirl and Robin telling him everything, but Summer and Shaggy told her it was magic. For a time, she even believed it. But boy, could this Red Hood talk. His mouth went a mile a minute, almost as if the words came out before he knew he was saying them.

Then Summer and Shaggy got lost, and she stopped believing in magic all together.]

What is a padawan?

Something my mom used to call me. [ Red can't help his grin, imitating cheerfully: ] Learn well you must, young padawan. It's from an old movie.

[ He feels awful for the poor girl. He's barely heard from any of the members of her little wolf pack--occasionally shared a communication life with Grey Wind, a proud sounding man who used some of his tracker information and even patched back in to say thank you.

There's not much he can do besides keep the dracs off her tail, and by off her tail, he means literally as far away as possible. ] Tell you what, Cat, I'm gonna send you some backup.

[She hears Red's voice take on a slightly more whimsical tone, and she can't help but crack a little smile. It reminds her of something Ghost might do.

He mentions the word 'backup', though, and that peaks her interest. Her hands and feet are practically itching to move, she's been hiding out in this metal skull all day. She'd like nothing more than to find something, anything to eat and to stretch her legs.

But she wonders who he would even send, since there was no word from any of them. Maybe he knew Ghost's location, if he hadn't been dusted.]

How will your men know to find me?

[ He ponders that for a second, then shifts across the small space and presses a button on a transmission, catching up with exactly the man for the job and muttering something into it before taking the mic and pressing it to the other doombox.

Sure enough, there's a long, elegant, almost inhuman from the other end, crackling to life through his speakers, and he waits for Big Bad to stop being such a drama queen and finish, then brings it back to his mouth. ]

Pack finds pack.

Edited 2013-06-13 05:23 (UTC)

[Somehow, as she listens to the deep howling on the other end, Cat can't help but wonder if it's the same scratchy-voiced man who spoke to her earlier, after she'd hidden in the skull from the rain. She sounds off to Big Bad with her own little howl. It's certainly not as long or as convincing as his, but it'll do.]

[ Dangerous but admirable, in its way. The broadcasters in the Zones are invaluable, as far as he's concerned, even if he doesn't really talk to them that often.

But the Big Bad Wolf isn't exactly one to ignore being namedropped on a free range broadcast, intentional or otherwise, even if he has to roll his eyes at it. Turning his receiver over in his hands for a moment, he reaches up with one to tug down his bandana from his mouth, speaking in a dry rumble. ]

Definitely stick to your day job.

My day job is supposed to be keeping an eye out for you. [ The familiar voice over the transmission makes a grin slide onto Red's face--this douchebag was, surprisingly, one of theirs, even if he's still a dick. He's been watching over said wolf since he'd first taken on the job of doing his broadcasts, considering the irony of their names, and he'd not been disappointed. When he dispatched his trackers, he kept a watchful eye on the man who slipped through every single one of his, until Red had to track him personally, going out on rollerblades. ] Ladies and gentlemen, sounds like I snared a wolf after all.

[ Snark snark. ]

I hope you mean the collective you, or else you're going to probably sic some jealous fans on me for giving the special treatment. [ The fact that Red can bait him into actually answering his callouts is in a whole league of its own, but he's not exactly sure what kind it is. It's not very often that the wolf reports in to anyone, given his generally lone nature, but there are a few things that will get him to come out of the static and back onto the airwaves. The jockey is, apparently, one of those things. ]

For now, at least.

[ Before he disappears off the grid for another week, leaving Red Hood frustrated and yet hot on his trail. It's a sort of game of tag, and one he's starting to almost enjoy. ]

Dude, you are giving me way too much credit. Besides. [ Saccharinely sweet--you could practically hear him ~~being a little shit~~ batting his eyelashes. ] You're my one and only.

[ Leaning back in his char, he kicks his feet up again, bouncing in the seat. ] Fated to eat me up or something like that. You planning on letting me know where the wild things are today? Cause otherwise I'm gonna drop you [ ~~wow what a lie~~ ], big teeth or not.

Be still my beating heart. [ Dry as the desert, as they like to say.

Rolling his head, he surveys the area surrounding him where he's parked his bike, far from "home" and thoughtful. When a wolf patrols its territory, it goes even to the farthest reaches. He should probably start heading back in, before things start to get ugly in any way-- which, there are a lot of possible ways for things to get ugly in the outer edges of the Zones. ]

Been keeping watch over One today. There's been combing in every nook and cranny since late last night, and it ain't letting up any time soon.

If it keeps you from eating my grandma, by all means. [ A smirk crosses his face as he rifles through some papers, spinning in his chair and finding what looks like a photograph of graffiti tags--definitely Wolf's work. There were tons of photos just like this papering his "office", connected by pieces of red string, each one a different track that the big bad wolf seemed to take. Wherever he went, the agents would always, always follow, like they knew him, and what had started as a game ended with a surprisingly compatible team of trackers and dispatch.

And maybe Red enjoyed the hunt. Wolf was smarter than half of the dracs that came out this far. ] Whatever you dispatch, try not to do it with too many bloodstains, some of us are listening in on your every move.

Not exactly in the business of eating anyone's grandmother, these days. Think I'd skip right onto bigmouthed broadcasters, to be honest. [ There are sure times where the Big Bad Wolf just draws the Draculoids into a trap, leaves blatant clues for them to follow until he can dispose of them as is necessary. He knows that Red Hood finds those trails, but he's also been leaving him more subtle indicators, and he hasn't been disappointed in the least.

It's better that way, really. Sometimes, he doesn't feel like the airwaves are safe, even with a code. Leaving behind tags and other visible means for others to follow is safer, though he takes care in where he leaves them-- for his game of tag, for warnings, for safe locations. It's just a matter of who can figure them out. ]

I'm running out of spray paint, though. [ Is he joking, or is he seriously considering using drac blood for his tags? (He's joking, and hopefully Red's figured out his dark sense of humor by this point.) ]

[There's a snort the moment Red Hood picks up his transmission followed by a distorted voice.]

You call that shiny? Shit man you and me should have a chat about music.

Anyways, not why I called. Dracs're going to be patrolling Zone 2.

Don't like it, get your own radio program. [ Cheerfully, he slides back to the main doom box, picking up his mic. ]

Appreciated, dude. For that, maybe I'll take a request or two.

[This laugh might be a bit more genuine then the other.]

Nah, that takes effort. Plus I can't stick around in one place too long, y'know?

How many requests do I get if I gave you some more patrol schedules?

[Not too many, mind you. He can't give away a full hand or make people suspicious, but he wants to help at least a bit. Especially after hearing about a big firefight that left a family broken.]

I'll make you a whole playlist if you impress me. [ A grin cracks onto his face, and you can hear the sound of a pen scritching on paper. ]

Alright, hit me, tall dark and mysterious. My loyal listeners are waiting.

Tall, dark and mysterious? Please. You can just call me Psycho Therapist, or Psycho.

[There's the sound of shifting on his end as he sets the radio down just to readjust his mask before picking up the transmitter.]

Right. Over the next week seems like there'll be an increase in Zone 2. Think like, triple the patrols they have goin' on now. My guess is they wanna hit the zone rats trying to do business or just gettin' complacent when their busy celebrating or some shit.

Also from the sounds of it their searching through Zone 3 for something, or most likely someone's.

I get a playlist yet?

[Because that's probably all he can safely give right now.]

[Eh, it's been a slow day, but some surveillance wouldn't be a bad idea.]

Hey, Red Hood. Cash 'N' Carry, out by the giant-ass neon clover in Zone 4. Just wondering if there are any... unsavory types I should be watching out for.

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ʀᴇᴅ ʜᴏᴏᴅ ʀᴀᴅɪᴏ; ʙʀᴏᴀᴅᴄᴀsᴛ 1

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