[19] Video/Action for Olivine - "Warm Sun, Cool Ocean Breezes, Getting Ripshit On Ham"

[lieutenantantichrist]

[The camera is pointed at the sky. It's clear for now, though clouds aren't far distant. There's the sound of waves, underlain by clicks and scraping noises very close to the speakers. The screen shifts until it is angled properly to show the one positioning it - a Clauncher. With careful movements of his claws, he makes sure that the Gear is balanced against the rocks behind it. Once he's satisfied, he scuttles backward daintily until he has room to work.

In the background, Blake is visible, wearing swim trunks and reclining on a distant beach chair and soaking in the last of the summer. Now and then an Emolga hops up and drops a Frisbee onto his bare chest, and he tosses it off across the beach again.

The Clauncher has found an expanse of clear sand and a period of time in which he is given no heed, and intends to make the most of both. With a wriggle of his tail to steady himself, he rises up and lifts his claw. A slender stream of water arcs to the ground, forming the shape of graceful cursive letters writ in dampened sand.]

SOS, please hear and heed
I've come from 'neath the sea
Observe misfortune's bitter grasp
See what's befallen me.

I came with brethren plentiful
I know not whence or why
Only that by some mischance
I caught a native's eye.

I am a humble creature; still,
I've pride and dignity
I'll tell you now, I wasn't hatched
For a brute's menagerie.

Won't anyone come lend a hand
Or wing, or pseudopod?
I'll find my way as best I can-
But spirit me from this clod!

Comments

VIDEO

[lieutenantantichrist]

[The Clauncher's antennae twitch as he thinks. It takes some deciphering.]

You say I should make common cause
With my fellow captive kind?
We're caught up all in the same trap

[a round shadow floats over the words. A moment later, an Emolga comes scampering after the Frisbee, scttering sand over the Clauncher's writing. He uses his tail to make a clean canvas and finishes the thought.]

Though they do not seem to mind.

VIDEO

[codpieces]

[ huh— gamzee pauses for a minute to gaze up in thought, while his scraggy continues to beat box without him— he soon, awkwardly, comes to a stop when he sees that all's gone quiet, and gamzee seems to be . . .

spacing out . . .

so he's going to headbutt his shin to get him back down to earth! hello gamzee?? ]

Fuck—!

[ for such a little guy it still hurts! he rubs his shin quickly, barely keeping his balance and mumbling a "haha, fuck, little man . . ." then, after a moment: ]

Oh— Sorry, Crabbro.

[ what was he going to say before-? ]

. . . We be in a trap?

VIDEO

[lieutenantantichrist]

[He shakes his head from side to side]

By us I mean to indicate
Not your kind, but us of claw
And scale, and fur, and firey mane
Who walk on hoof and paw.

VIDEO

[codpieces]

[ this time, the little scraggy jumps in just before gamzee can say anything. ]

Yo!!!
Cous', it's PB in the house!
Shed skin an' scaly paws, that damn sure counts!
I ain't trapped, you see the cages?
It's all in the head, a disease
Contagious.

[ haha gamzee don't get it but ]

I'm feelin' sicknasty vibes, man— keep hittin' it!

[ it's gamzee's turn to beatbox, now, although he's quite a sloppy one to do it ]

This here's a bro—
A lil' slow, but friendly to hell,
Motherfuckin' know!
I'm free to fight and snatch
soon to be Scrafty, hardest hoodlum you'll see,
that don't sound like no trainer catch to little fuckin' me!

[ a pause, pulling up his shed skin as he thinks. shoot he's out of rhymes . . . ]

So— What's with the human?

VIDEO

[lieutenantantichrist]

[What the Clauncher doesn't follow only intrigues him further.]

I suppose in all things in heav'n and earth
There are many could be worse:
Already you are showing me
An entire new kind of verse.

That human...well, what can I say
Besides he is a boor
Who knocked me with a colored sphere-
And is poorly-read, what's more!