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?

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[...Haha, that's an expression he recognizes. It's the kind of expression you move away from really fast to avoid startling people that don't need to be startled. And yet...it's a compelling one that makes you really want to ask...]

How...big a bat?

[You can't get further away than half a country. The old crazy people are safe-ish to talk to like this.

He's gonna think on that question for a second.]

That big a bat.

[He turns the phone's camera to the Crobat, a big purple son of a bitch about the size of a man. Most of his attention is on trying to balance between the two stools. Blake moves the coasters and stuff out of the way to he can rest his front pair of wings on the bar.]

Hey. You know if these things can drink?

[Cause if they can, Ray deserves one.]

[Whoa. That's a big bat. Walter makes an impressed noise.]

Can they drink? I...I don't know, but I can't see why not. [He looks a little caught off-guard, like he's not quite sure why he's being asked that.]

Is the "dumbest" thing I've done the strangest thing, or the most foolish?

[Ray Liotta appreciates the compliment.]

In that case- [Blake is getting his bat a beer. Since he doesn't have hands, it comes with a straw.]

Strangest, craziest, stupidest, either one. You got a lot to choose from?

[The kid has to stop and think about that for a bit - one way of saying "yes".

Most stupid would be something mundane from back home. Fishing accidents make boring stories. Strangest depends entirely on where you set the bar; everything that's happened in the past three months or so has been off-the-wall strange, but not much of it is the "flying on a giant bat and sitting in a bar afterwards" type of strange.

Being Charmed by the Lilim horde counts.

...but we don't talk about that. Maybe something just as ignoble but less mortifying.]

...walking for hours, dragging some monster's reeking head to a herd of river-horses to prove it was dead. The thing was foul beyond belief. They ate it.

[the actual stupid part was how bringing back a monster's head is supposed to be cool but instead it smelled like a pile of rotting fish and shit and it sucked, but it probably sounds weird and stupid for any number of other reasons.]

[That look suggests the guy is taking stock.]

[What he comes out with is a hell of a good one.]

...there's not one part of that that makes sense.

I've met a couple talking horses here, but they all look like girls and would be pretty pissed off if you gave them a severed head for dinner.

[Walter shrugs a little. Yeah he knows it's weird-]

-what do you mean, they "look like girls"?

[Generously applying that incredulous tone, here.]

Edited (no not that icon) 2013-10-06 03:05 (UTC)

Let's say I think that's true and not something you saw after a couple bottles of Night Train. How do you even get into that kinda situation?

[He holds his hands up.] Don't look at me. I didn't believe it either. All I know if there's a bunch of teenage girls around here who say they're horses.

Er....[That is a damn good question.] ...Well, we...had to cross the river, and they'd chased off the ferryman. [This guy doesn't seem like he'd accept the basic concept of demons no matter what Walter said about it, so why even bother starting there?]

But these are normal horses? As in the cart-pulling kind? [He just needs to confirm this. Walter isn't the kind to cling to disbelief, but he still thinks that sounds bizarre and unsettling.]

The hell kinda river has horses that want body parts instead of a fuckin' bridge? What do you do to get across once they like you, step on them?

[There's a whole lot of concepts Blake can't deal with. Right now he's hung up enough on the logistics.]

[with deep chagrin] Nope. Magic horses. Say they could talk to begin with.

One made me a shirt.

[...Actually, yes. He nods.] They all lined up in the water and we walked across, just like that.

[But if they're magic horses that makes a little more sense. God knows there are some weird horses out there.] ...I don't think I'd wear that shirt. It could be cursed.

Sounds like a lousy idea. I wouldn't trust stepping stones made out of anybody who eats heads.

Nah. It's a great shirt. That girl couldn't curse anything, anyway. Worst she can do is be prissy at you.

[...Well, it's a big world out there. Full of prissy magic horse girls and God knows what else.]

Don't suppose you'd have a better idea? [Color him curious. How would you cross a river full of horses?]

Build a fuckin' boat. Better yet, go the hell home. Whatever's on the other side, it can't be worth it.

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

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