lieutenantantichrist | [10] Video/Action for Goldenrod - "Because You're Crackheads, Children."

[ACTION]

[Something streaks across the skies above Goldenrod. It jags back and forth, gaining and dropping altitude in sudden swoops. It nearly smacks into the top of a building but lurches to the side just in time.]

[Anybody with very good eyesight might be able to make out that it's a Crobat, with Blake clinging desperately to its back.]

[Anybody with very good hearing might be able to make out]

fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKfuckfuckfuck...

[He's hanging on for his life as four wings flap around him and his stomach does a great impression of a bunch of furious weasels in a burlap bag. In a rare second of flying straight, as they pass over a street, Blake spots some blond hair.]

[It can't be...no, those damn stupid glasses are unmistakable.]

[Blake's eyes light up with determination.]

[If there's one thing that can cut through terror for life and limb, it's the prospect of petty revenge.]

Down![He shoves at the bat's shoulder, making it lurch. Ray Liotta is still getting the hang of flying with the extra weight and noise.] Down, goddammit!

[The bat swoops almost to the ground, giving Blake a chance to see the storefronts woosh by and really understand how fucking fast they are going, but he has something he need to do.]

[He yells] Hey asshole!

[Then he goes to punch him in the head.]

[VIDEO]

[The feed comes up on Blake sitting in Goldenrod's bar. He's a little out of breath. There's a few scratches on his face to go with the leaves on his shirt and the twigs in his hair.]

[He orders a shot of whiskey for him and one for the Crobat that's balanced on two stools next to him.]

[Blake drinks his in a gulp, and lets his hand fall heavily to the bar.]

[He looks to the Gear. His eyes are showing a little too much white and a touch of a leftover manic gleam. His lips twitch up.]

So I just flew on a bat.

What's the dumbest thing you've ever done?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Blake raises his finger to make an important point.] I didn't get scratched up flying.

That was the landing.

[That's almost but not quite better.]

...Can I ask where you landed to end up like that, or is it the sort of incident that causes twitching whenever it's mentioned?

Nah, it'll take worse than a couple trees to shut me up. Just made a crash landing in the woods a little south of here.

[Tenderly, with his fingertips, he feels at the scratches on his face.]

It was mostly branches, anyway.

[The Crobat flaps and makes a mournful sound, though it's hard to tell with a bat. He has some mud and leaves stuck to him, but no visible injuries.]

Hey, you ever try spraying a Potion in your own face?

[Oh look, another shot. He'll just be taking that.]

I'll save you some time. Doesn't work.

...The woods, huh. I'm sure it'll go much better next time. You'll get used to the extra weight.

[Yes, that last part was said directly to the bat.]

Maybe they only work on critters that can potentially breathe fire. None of us can match that.

Next time. Christ. [Blake was going to wait a minute before ordering a drink, but on second thought, never mind.] You say you fly around in giant robots. How many guys puke all over the cockpit the first time?

[Ray flaps a little to stay balanced between the barstools and makes a bat noise of thanks for the encouragement. The weight isn't so bad, but the jerking back and forth and yelling makes it difficult to fly straight.]

Hey, you never know. I've seen a couple party tricks.

Edited 2013-10-05 07:26 (UTC)

Do you think most pilots would admit to being sick, really? Now, if you were asking about the number of pilots who absolutely insist on being the ones to clean their cockpits and do their laundry after the first sortie...

[He sounds amused, but not exactly mocking. He knows all too well how terrifying it is to get a blade aimed right at your cockpit.]

I hope they were sober party tricks, or else that could turn out nasty.

Hah, figures. Nobody ever admits it.

[Like nobody admits to throwing up the first time they kill somebody.]

Nah, half the fun is knowing you can screw up and set your own head on fire.

...I'm sure the risk is what makes it so impressive and so worthy of respect, but I think I'll pass. I'd rather not actually lose an eye, next time something happens to my face.

Not everybody can get their kicks from flying in space. Us Earthlings have to get creative.

Get creative with motorbikes. They're fun and useful, even if more expensive.

[And also probably more likely to kill you.]

Hell no. I've seen those idiots get scraped off the sidewalk. It's uglier than what I see in homicide.

That's the idiots, though. Or the extremely unlucky, but they're usually unlucky because of other idiots.

Or because those things are deathtraps.

[Blake thinks for a second.]

Hey. You never answered the question.

What, the one about the potions? ...I did try months ago, actually. Nasty fall from one of those ledges.

[Twice. Within five minutes.]

Those damn things are a menace. I don't know why people go near them.

[Blake only fell off one once. And then again a couple times.]

I mean the dumbest thing you ever did. Anybody from space must have a lot to choose from.

[Ah, yes, that question. He's done a lot of very stupid things, some of them harder to admit than others...]

...I once used untested equipment that was known to potentially cause health issues. In a combat situation.

[...But that one is generic and impersonal enough to serve.]

That's it?

[Blake scoffs]

C'mon, you gotta have something better. That's up there with not buckling your seatbelt.

One of those potential health issues was permanent damage in certain parts of the human brain. I knew about that fact.

[He was a really stupid teenager, sometimes.]

[Blake's face screws up in confusion] What were you doing, huffing space glue?

...You know, at that point I think people would have freaked out a lot less if I had been huffing glue.

If it was something that could make you a drooling vegetable, the hell were you doing using it, anyway?

[Blake would never do anything so poorly thought out or reckless.]

It was supposed to help you develop better reflexes. Better reflexes sounded like a very good idea at the time.

[The psychic powers did, too.]

Some kinda space meth doesn't sound worth melting your brain for.

So I was told. Sternly and angrily.

[And encouragingly, because Woolf Enneacle was awesome.]

[10] Video/Action for Goldenrod - "Because You're Crackheads, Children."

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