Lt. Carter Blake (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lieutenantantichrist) wrote2014-09-09 05:15 am
lieutenantantichrist) wrote2014-09-09 05:15 am
Entry tags:
[19] Video/Action for Olivine - "Warm Sun, Cool Ocean Breezes, Getting Ripshit On Ham"
[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!
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.]
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!
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Carter then. Easy enough to remember.
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[Something strikes him, and his eyes narrow slightly in the bright sun.]
Don't take this the wrong way. We're not buddies or anything.
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[Blake's fate is far worse than just buddies.]
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Fine, do all the wild goose chases you feel like. It's no skin off my ass if you want to waste your time.
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But keep your damn hands off.
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[He is left with an uneasy feeling. He ignores it and throws a frisbee for his squirrel.]
no subject