Lt. Carter Blake (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lieutenantantichrist) wrote2013-10-02 04:27 am
lieutenantantichrist) wrote2013-10-02 04:27 am
Entry tags:
[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?
[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?
Action
Can't blame Ray. Bats are built for hanging around being Halloween decorations, not being somebody's commute.
[Blake doesn't look straight at Lee. He doesn't know how he feels about the guy. He's a murderer, no two ways about it, but he's not the murderer Blake was after.]
[He mutter at the bar] Gotta do it sooner or later. Only way to get around here.
Action
[Oh come on he's not even in the same category as that kind of sicko. He's not even a serial killer
unless you count walkers, he's just a guy who fucked up.You can relate to that, right?]
Well, not the only way, but the fastest. I've been looking into it myself. Got more birds than I know what to do with, so I might as well put them to work.
Action
[He'd had to yell like a son of a bitch over the wind. He'd thought Ray wasn't listening to him. Hell, what if he just couldn't hear?]
[He taps his fingers on the edge of the bar. It's easier to try to figure out how to talk to a bat than to think about how to talk to Lee. It's all in the situation, right? All in who and why. Self-defense, manslaughter, negligent homicide. Real different things. Killing a man who banged your wife falls on the understandable side, but that doesn't make it any less murder.]
Birds. Gotta give em something to do besides shit on cars.
[It's obvious his mind's not there.]