Lt. Carter Blake (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lieutenantantichrist) wrote2015-03-09 03:00 am
lieutenantantichrist) wrote2015-03-09 03:00 am
[21] Video/Action for Goldenrod - "I'm gonna rule this world."
[In a square in the center of Goldenrod City, a small crowd has gathered. A show is about to start.
There's a crude stage that's been freshly hammered together. Near the back, a little Snubbull is tapping in the last few nails. The platform wobbles but holds as a man climbs up it, then takes a place at a podium in the center. He's wearing a white button-up shirt and, in concession to his ambitions, a tie. He looks toward the camera.] Hey, Newt. You got that thing running?
[The camera's view nods up and down.]
All right.
[He holds his arms up for silence. Then, when no one quite pays attention, he barks,] Hey! All of you! Shut up!
[That's much more effective. When the eyes of the curious onlookers are on him, he plants his hands on the sides of the podium and clears his throat.]
All of you. Locals, people from the real world, people from the fuckin' moon. You know me. See, I've been here a long, long time. Two damn years, and I know some of you have been here longer. I was thinking about that, and you know what I realized?
[His voice gets louder and clearer as he finds his rhythm.]
I realized I'm not a fuckin' tourist. None of us are. This is our world as much as it is theirs-- and nobody is doing dick to run it.
Look around. Everybody does whatever they damn well please, and that's real nice right up until the minute some idiot starts planting bombs around. The closest thing to somebody in charge is the police, and they're a goddamn joke who give terrorists a week picking up garbage and then set them loose again. There's nobody calling the shots.
That changes today.
[His boots thud on plywood as he tramps back and forth along the stage, and his speech takes a turn toward harangue.]
When bees and sharks came crashing through people's windows, who smacked them right back out? Me. When some moron went around shooting lasers at the city, who knocked him out of the sky? Me. When a couple armies of fire and water idiots tried to wreck up the place with giant monsters, who went out to stop them? [He jerks his thumb to his chest.] Me.
[His voice is getting louder and louder. The cords stand out on his neck.]
And I'm not some jumped-up fourteen-year-old who thinks he's magic. I've been around the block in the real world. I have decades on the front lines. I haven't just lead people, I've lead them into tenements full of crackheads with shotguns. That has to mean something, even here.
Somebody around here has to get shit in order, and I'm done waiting.
[His tread takes him back to the podium. He grips the sides with his coarse-knuckled hands and leans over it to look straight into the Gear.]
I'm not asking you. I'm telling you.
From now on, I'm the head honcho around here.
[He jabs his finger at the camera.]
Stand with me or get out of my way.
There's a crude stage that's been freshly hammered together. Near the back, a little Snubbull is tapping in the last few nails. The platform wobbles but holds as a man climbs up it, then takes a place at a podium in the center. He's wearing a white button-up shirt and, in concession to his ambitions, a tie. He looks toward the camera.] Hey, Newt. You got that thing running?
[The camera's view nods up and down.]
All right.
[He holds his arms up for silence. Then, when no one quite pays attention, he barks,] Hey! All of you! Shut up!
[That's much more effective. When the eyes of the curious onlookers are on him, he plants his hands on the sides of the podium and clears his throat.]
All of you. Locals, people from the real world, people from the fuckin' moon. You know me. See, I've been here a long, long time. Two damn years, and I know some of you have been here longer. I was thinking about that, and you know what I realized?
[His voice gets louder and clearer as he finds his rhythm.]
I realized I'm not a fuckin' tourist. None of us are. This is our world as much as it is theirs-- and nobody is doing dick to run it.
Look around. Everybody does whatever they damn well please, and that's real nice right up until the minute some idiot starts planting bombs around. The closest thing to somebody in charge is the police, and they're a goddamn joke who give terrorists a week picking up garbage and then set them loose again. There's nobody calling the shots.
That changes today.
[His boots thud on plywood as he tramps back and forth along the stage, and his speech takes a turn toward harangue.]
When bees and sharks came crashing through people's windows, who smacked them right back out? Me. When some moron went around shooting lasers at the city, who knocked him out of the sky? Me. When a couple armies of fire and water idiots tried to wreck up the place with giant monsters, who went out to stop them? [He jerks his thumb to his chest.] Me.
[His voice is getting louder and louder. The cords stand out on his neck.]
And I'm not some jumped-up fourteen-year-old who thinks he's magic. I've been around the block in the real world. I have decades on the front lines. I haven't just lead people, I've lead them into tenements full of crackheads with shotguns. That has to mean something, even here.
Somebody around here has to get shit in order, and I'm done waiting.
[His tread takes him back to the podium. He grips the sides with his coarse-knuckled hands and leans over it to look straight into the Gear.]
I'm not asking you. I'm telling you.
From now on, I'm the head honcho around here.
[He jabs his finger at the camera.]
Stand with me or get out of my way.
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You say no, you know what happens? Same thing as happens to those Freemen-on-the-land assholes: nothing, unless you get in the way. The government's real whether you say it is or not.
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Look, I'm frustrated with how this place is run too, okay? But I don't go and become a dictator about it. (That's a little extreme, even for me.)
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But I never said anything about doing it alone. You want a real chance to make a difference? Here it is.
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[Well, that's an interesting offer. Phoenix considers it.]
Say we do volunteer for your vigilante police squad...thing. What exactly would we be doing?
[Hey, he'd join up if it meant he could keep Blake in line. Phoenix has a certain level of respect for the guy, but like hell does he trust him at all.]
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For another, we start keeping tabs on all the people who show up here. Who are these people? Who knows if they're coming here with priors.
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...this WAS still Blake, though, and that automatically makes him wary.] You could have framed it with less of an "evil dictator" vibe, though, I have to say.
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What, you want me to beat around the bush and play nice about it? That's not my style. I'm not going to smile and act like it's a suggestion. It's better to say it straight than jerk people around. I'm an honest man.
I'm not a big fan of lawyers, but you have experience. You could put that to use.
...unless you think you'll be happy letting that fancy degree rot while you play with your pets.
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[Not that Phoenix is exactly the most tactful person here, either.
Blake does know how to poke at his weak points, that's for sure. Phoenix makes a bit of a face, but slowly nods.] If you ever need any sort of legal services, I'm your man. Let me know if anything comes up that you could use my help on.
[He can always deny it if he feels like Blake is getting up to something fishy.]
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[But hearing that lightens him up.]
Good to know. Stick around, and you can put a hand in when we draft some real laws for this place.
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Sounds like a plan. Makes me wish I had all my jury system documents here with me; we could have used those for a base. [He could probably remember most of it, but those took SEVEN YEARS to compile, honestly...]
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[He strokes his chin with his hand.] Yeah, a jury system, we'll need one of those. Even though they're always idiots. But a real country has to have those.