Lt. Carter Blake (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lieutenantantichrist) wrote2013-06-23 03:24 am
lieutenantantichrist) wrote2013-06-23 03:24 am
[7] Video/Action for Union Cave
[The camera jounces up and down as Blake walks. It's pointed up at his face as rocks and hills pass by in the background. From time to time, there's a glimpse of the little Snubbull trotting by his side.]
Good to get out of that place. If I never see the color purple again, it'll be too soon.
[His steps slow and he turns the camera to face a dark opening in the face of the mountain.]
All the way here, "Watch out for the cave," that's what everybody keeps saying. I don't get what the big deal is. It's just a hole in the ground, and I'm a little too old to be scared of the dark. Bats, either. What are they gonna do, get in my hair?
[He turns the phone back toward himself.] Look, I'll show you.
[The screen falls into shadow as he walks into the cave. It's surprising how fast the bright daylight is left behind.]
See? [Blake's face is lit eerily by the light from the Gear. His voice echoes off the ceiling. There's a distant rustling that's probably nothing.] Nothing to it.
[There's a fluttering noise. Something touches his shoulder. Blake brushes it away.]
All you need is a little....
[Something squeaks. A shadow passes behind Blake. There's a soft rustling. Then a loud one. Blake looks up.]
[Then descends Zubat armaggeddon.]
[The Gear catches whirling impressions of wings, frantic squeaking, and a whole lot of shouting.]
Jesus fucking hell!
[Blake bursts back into sunlight with what must be the whole god damn bat population of the island swarming around him. The phone falls and lies on the ground, pointed up at where he's thrashing at the bats as the little pink blur beside him hops up and down and whacks at them with her paws]
[He rips one off his shirt and flings it away, smacks another off his back, and finally, the swarm clears out. He's left panting with his clothes torn.]
Son of a bitch. You okay Steve?
[There's a dizzy "Snub."]
[Blake goes to retrieve the Gear. As he crouches down, he feels something tickling his neck. He reaches up and feels a little Zubat, clinging with tiny claws to what little it can grab of his hair.]
[He pulls it off and holds it by the wing between thumb and forefinger. It squeaks and tries to flap, curling itself in a tiny little sideways bat pullup.]
Huh. Determined little runt.
What do I do, throw it back? Wonder if there's a minimum size, like with bass fishing.
Good to get out of that place. If I never see the color purple again, it'll be too soon.
[His steps slow and he turns the camera to face a dark opening in the face of the mountain.]
All the way here, "Watch out for the cave," that's what everybody keeps saying. I don't get what the big deal is. It's just a hole in the ground, and I'm a little too old to be scared of the dark. Bats, either. What are they gonna do, get in my hair?
[He turns the phone back toward himself.] Look, I'll show you.
[The screen falls into shadow as he walks into the cave. It's surprising how fast the bright daylight is left behind.]
See? [Blake's face is lit eerily by the light from the Gear. His voice echoes off the ceiling. There's a distant rustling that's probably nothing.] Nothing to it.
[There's a fluttering noise. Something touches his shoulder. Blake brushes it away.]
All you need is a little....
[Something squeaks. A shadow passes behind Blake. There's a soft rustling. Then a loud one. Blake looks up.]
[Then descends Zubat armaggeddon.]
[The Gear catches whirling impressions of wings, frantic squeaking, and a whole lot of shouting.]
Jesus fucking hell!
[Blake bursts back into sunlight with what must be the whole god damn bat population of the island swarming around him. The phone falls and lies on the ground, pointed up at where he's thrashing at the bats as the little pink blur beside him hops up and down and whacks at them with her paws]
[He rips one off his shirt and flings it away, smacks another off his back, and finally, the swarm clears out. He's left panting with his clothes torn.]
Son of a bitch. You okay Steve?
[There's a dizzy "Snub."]
[Blake goes to retrieve the Gear. As he crouches down, he feels something tickling his neck. He reaches up and feels a little Zubat, clinging with tiny claws to what little it can grab of his hair.]
[He pulls it off and holds it by the wing between thumb and forefinger. It squeaks and tries to flap, curling itself in a tiny little sideways bat pullup.]
Huh. Determined little runt.
What do I do, throw it back? Wonder if there's a minimum size, like with bass fishing.
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[His voice drops a little and he adds] Besides, she'd bite the shit out of me.
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[The camera pans over to her. She's lying on the ground, exhausted from fighting off all the bats. She musters up the energy to wave an arm.]
[The camera goes back to Blake.]
She'll be fine.
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[Blake looks amused.] Looks like she's up for it. Anytime, kid.
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[That miiiiight be a hint of a smirk. Maybe.]