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

[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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