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

[The bartender delivers another shot, and Blake downs it.] Mama always said don't fuck with dinosaurs.

Fire horses, I still don't trust those things. One day they figure they don't like you and your ass is charcoal.

I've seen weirder and dealt with tougher horses. They've been pretty reliable long as I've had 'em, though.

Only people I know with horses are rich assholes. Back in the real world, I mean. Where you have to pay bills for em and shit. Not like here, where they just hatch from goddamn eggs all over the place.

[He toys with his empty glass and glances over at the guy.]

You serious you seen weirder than that?

They were pretty common where I'm from. Kind of the easiest transportation, y'know?

[Lancer shrugged, laughing.]

Oh, definitely. Met a woman once that could shapeshift. And did. A lot. While trying to kill me. You ever have an eel try to trip you while you're fighting, 'cause I sure as fuck have.

What are you from, Amish country?

[Blake eyes him.] Uh-huh. [He's not even sure whether to doubt these things anymore.]

[Hell, he'll let it go and humor him this once. No use fighting.]

Nope, no eels. Just meth heads. [He looks thoughtful.] Guy might've been named Eel...wait, nah, it was Slither. Greasy bastard.

Medieval Ireland. I think medieval's the word they use for it now, at least.

[Lancer didn't miss a beat on that one, almost immediately turning and ordering another drink with a cheerful smile.]

Man, I would've had it pretty damn easy if humans were the worst of my problems. But no, I had the Morrigan and all other shit to contend with.

What, with all the swords and knights and that crap?

Shapeshifting withes, huh. Before I got here, I thought humans were all there were anywhere. They're enough damn trouble.

That'd be it, yeah. Me, I preferred lances to swords; better range, y'know.

[lancer stop]

I think they're pretty interesting, myself. Modern humans are some fascinating shit, with the kind of technology and whatever else they've developed.

Lances. [Blake only has a vague idea.] What's that, like a spear?

Yeah, we've come up with some great stuff. Airplanes, electricity, crystal meth.

That's exactly what it is. [Lancer couldn't quite stop himself from giving Blake a 'you're a dumbass' look.]

[Never mind that he had no idea what crystal meth was. He had a feeling he probably shouldn't even ask.]

You can be sarcastic all you want, but it is pretty damned impressive.

What do you need more fancy words for if it just means "sharp stick you poke somebody with?"

Hey, I'm not complaining. There's a lot of ugly shit out there, but I'm not gonna say I don't miss cars.

And if it weren't for meth, we wouldn't have the best damn TV show since The Wire.

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

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