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]
[It's not long before he gives up.]
[He glances around to see if anybody saw what happened. No glares or anybody losing their shit, so it must be a no, thank Christ.]
[He straightens out his collar where it's rumpled from being grabbed. He heads back to the booth and gestures to Bro.] All right, siddown. What's your drink?
[Blake's gonna sit down himself and take a long pull of beer to try to wash off the weird feeling of a man's mouth. It works a little.]
[What Bro said was even weirder. Blake snorts.]
C'mon. All that shit about my ass, sending it to everybody? You don't pull that kind of crap on anybody you don't want to get fucked up. I spent the next week figuring I'd have to beat the crap out of people to get em off my back. Kept waiting for somebody to take a shot.
[Action]
A beer.
[That's all he says, and then he listens to Blake continue speaking. Everything he says obviously points to Bro hating him, but that's honestly not the case. He just had a fun time messing with the guy- it was in his nature. Just the same way he messed with Dave and Rose and pretty much everyone.]
I wouldn't've done it if I thought people were gonna fuck you up. If they did, they would've had me to deal with.
[Truth be told, he liked Blake. That isn't even his girlfriend-disappearance insanity talking. He found the man's reactions to shit endearing. It was fun. Maybe he went overboard sometimes, but that was just in Bro's nature.]
I don't hate you. [He repeats himself, trying to get Blake to see that, though not looking at him. Times like this were when he didn't want his eyes showing off his feelings.]
[Action]
[Sure, he's a fucked-up weirdo, but in a different way than Blake expected, and right now that strikes him as kinda interesting.]
[His mouth curls up sardonically.] You were gonna play bodyguard for somebody you put crosshairs on? C'mon. Didn't need it, anyway. If anybody'd said a damn word, they would've regretted it all the way to the hospital.
[Funny, he says that and sounds honest about it. Blake runs through a quick evaluation and shrugs.]
Hell. You're a pain in the ass, but the guys I really hate...you gotta do a lot worse to compete.
[He cocks his head and looks at him. Something occurs to him.]
You look better without the sunglasses. Less like a kid dressing up.
[Action]
At the same time though, he can't help but let out a small, quiet chuckle at Blake's following words. Honestly, he wasn't going to underestimate Blake after that punch. His nose was still kind of sore, to be perfectly honest. It seemed like it took forever for it to stop bleeding, too. He had no doubt Blake would've been able to take care of whoever gave him shit.]
I don't doubt you there.
[Blake's words after that... really surprise him, if he's perfectly honest. Especially the latter. He wouldn't have expected something like that from a guy like Blake- hell, it. Wasn't often he got something like that from anyone. Most people from his home world thought he looked like a freak with his orange eyes. He tried not to let it get to him, but it still sucked to feel like he had to hide them to be some semblance of normal.
The surprise flashes in his eyes, and he looks... What can only be described as flattered before he looks away and takes a hefty swig of his beer.]
Heh. Come on. The shades are fuckin' cool, dunno what you're talking about.
[Action]
[It doesn't hurt to have his manly skills of punching people acknowledged, either. He puffs up a little.] I can't let anybody go around fucking with me, you know? It doesn't look right.
[It's not real bright in here. He squints at Bro's eyes.] Those colored contacts, is that the style or something around here? I know this one kid,[he gestures toward his eyes] bright red. Like fuckin' Christmas lights. Not one of those idiot teenagers who thinks he's a vampire or something, either, a kid with his head on straight.
[They even stayed in when he cried, but Blake's not gonna go around telling anybody that happened.]
Hell no. Fuckin' hate assholes in sunglasses.
[Blake waves his glass toward Bro.] Huh, whaddya know. So you can do expressions besides 'jagoff smirk.'
[He takes a sip and rolls it around in his mouth for a while.]
What's your real name, anyway?
[Action]
You mean Dave?
[It never occurred to him that Blake might not know they're related. It's not exactly something everyone knows, after all.]
Anyway, nah, they're not contacts. They're real.
[Bro rolls his eyes slightly and doesn't deign a response to the smirk comment. It's at the question that he falls a bit silent and takes another drink of beer. He guesses, all things considers, he doesn't mind telling Blake. It might earn him brownie points or something.]
If I tell you, I'll have to kill you. [He lets out a small laugh, his lips curled up into something like a small smile, proving Blake's point about the 'jagoff smirk'. He certainly could do more than that.] Dirk.
[Action]
[That's some fine police work there, Carter.]
You screwin' with me?
[He looks serious. Blake looks at him for a minute, then shrugs.]
Eh, it's less crazy than getting smacked by a frog.
[Blake's eyebrows arch.] Dirk, that's it? That's your big secret? I'm not gettin' killed for Dirk. That's nothing. I was expecting Eugene or something. Francis, at least.
[He's gonna real naturally not look at his mouth too much.]
[Action]
[He settles down a little at that, taking a drink of beer and almost wishing it were stronger- actually, he does wish it were stronger. He waves to the bartender and asks for a shot of the strongest shit they have, and a minute or two later he's got it sitting in front of him, though he doesn't down it just yet.]
Yeah, 'm serious. D'you wanna touch 'em and find out? Maybe get a closer look? Not sure how else to convince you.
[He sounds a little defensive, but for the most part he's not taking it too seriously. Blake's already proven he's not actually making fun of him, so he's relaxed considerably.]
Oh come on, whose name is Dirk? It sounds like someone's grandpa. I'm too fuckin' young to be a grandpa!
[Action]
[His eyes follow the new drink with approval.] You don't pussy around.
Hell, weird-colored eyes is small potatoes by now. Just don't go saying you're an alien and I got no problem.
[He leans back, one arm draping over the back of the booth.]
Besides, I already punched you. Poking you in the eyes'd be overkill.
[He does a half-shrug with one hand turned up.] Nah. Dirk sounds more like somebody outta Raymond Chandler. That's not so bad as names go.
[Action]
But first...]
If I claim to be an alien, do I get to probe you? [He lets out a laugh, before going a bit more serious.] But nah, he and I are... related. He's, in a really fucking technical and roundabout way, my son. [He's... not going to get into the fact that for the longest time, he referred to Dave as his brother for a variety of reasons, and that it's only because of playing sburb that Dave ever found out, though it's clear there's more to it if Blake wants to pry.]
We'll have to agree to disagree on the name, though. I still think it's pretty grandpa-ish.
[Still, it's pretty nice that Blake is being so unjudgmental. It makes him feel a lot better, all things considered. A second or two later, he decides to down his shot before calling for another two. When it's placed in front of him, he slides one towards Blake.]
Feel like something a little stronger?
[Action]
[He's drunk enough that joking about this just seems a little risky, not fucking insane.] Besides, didn't you say something about a ten foot pole?
[He finishes off his beer as he tries to process that family relationship.]
I woulda figured you'd be too young to have a kid. But when you say technical...shit, you don't mean his mom's dead or he's adopted, do you.
Could be worse, though. Hell, there was some girl a while back saying something about...fuck, I don't know, meteorite test tube babies? She coulda been screwing with me, I don't even know how to tell anymore. Nobody here can just come from a broken condom like normal.
[He snorts] Try living with "Carter." You get a lot of "That's not even a name."
[Blake catches the shot glass.]
Hell. Why not.
[He raises it toward Dirk] To weird shit falling out of the sky.
[Action]
So I take it you must've talked to Rose Lalonde, too. My daughter.
[He shakes his head, a smile playing at his lips.]
They're not condom break babies, that's for damn sure. They're a little more scientific. Bit ain't like it changes anything. They're still my crotch dropping, even if they came from a lab.
[He actually sounds really serious about that. There might've been a time when he was hesitant to claim them as his own, but being here, living a semi normal life with them, it makes it a love easier to claim them as his children. He's fucking proud of who they've become. He doesn't hesitate to claim them anymore.]
Life might be easier if they'd come from a broken condom, but hey. Family's family, right?
[He gives Blake a nod, before downing his second drink as well.]
I'll give you that, I guess. Carter ain't exactly the most common of names. Blake, though. That's a bit more believable. [A small pause, as he thinks about it.] Which d'you prefer, then? Carter or Blake?
[Action]
Shit, how many kids you got running around here?
[He raises his hands] Don't worry, I was nice.
[Look at this face. Look how innocent and nice this face is. He was, though; he's not gonna go around being a dick to teenage girls. It'd actually been a pretty good conversation, besides the weird asteroid part.]
Crotch dropping. Nice way to put it.
[He spins the shotglass on the table.]
Their mom must be something complicated, too, if you're going around making out with guys.
Hell. By now, might as well be Carter. [Considering that you kissed him, something he still can't quite work his way around to believing.]
[Action]
Just the two, but they're complex enough to count for like twenty.
[There is nothing innocent about that face. Nothing at all.
And at the comment on their mom, he falls silent. He knows Blake didn't mean it in a particularly bad way, but Roxanne was gone, too. Between Valeria and Roxanne having disappeared, he felt really fucking alone. He was the only adult from their universe remaining. How the hell was he supposed to do this shit without her?]
She was... special. [There's a fond inflection in his voice, if a little sad. He doesn't say anything in regards to the kissing guys bit, but it does make him wish he could be with someone again, a pang of longing shooting right through his heart.]
Carter it is, then.
[And maybe it's the much stronger alcohol coursing through him that makes him ask the next question. It certainly has a lot to do with the pang that went through him moments before, at least. Probably a large bit of both.]
Did you really not like it at all?
[The kiss is what he's referring to.]
[Action]
[His eyes drop down to his glass. The look on Dirk's face says a lot, and those couple words say more. Dead or a long way away, then. If they were broken up it would have been bitch was crazy.]
[The thought pops into Blake's head that he can't remember when the last time was he dated somebody.]
[For good reason, too. That crap's a waste of time.]
[Dirk's question clips him on the side of the head as it wings past. He looks at him in surprise. With a drunk's intuition, he immediately knows what he's talking about.]
[You get a second of rare honesty.] What's that got to do with anything?
[Action]
Because for all he knows maybe he's Dave's mom and not his dad?? Wow this got weird. Also he's kind of drunk so he's not thinking logically on that front.
The next one though... That one's a much easier thing to answer, just like it's also the hardest one to answer.]
It... just does. I mean, I'm just curious. Is that so bad?
[Action]
[He leans forward over the table and lowers his head confidentially.]
Lemme see if I got this straight.
You're talking about something goddamn wrong, here. The kinda thing that if the wrong guy saw it and got the wrong idea, and god knows there's a guy around here who'd love the chance, I could kiss my life and my career goodbye.
You're asking me if I liked it.
[Action]
So after a moment, he leans in too, and he lowers his voice.]
Then for two minutes, let's just fucking pretend that none of that's a thing. Pretend we're alone right now. We practically are anyway. But say it's just you and me. Alone.
[He leanes very slightly closer, looking at Blake pointedly.]
Did. you. like it.
[Action]
[Blake doesn't break Dirk's gaze.]
[He says it pointed and deliberate, like it's a nasty piece of evidence he's pushing in his face. Like it's fighting words.]
Yeah. I did.
[Action]
But it does, because for some reason he can't explain to himself, he wants Blake to like it. It almost feels like he needs Blake to like it. He just needs some-fucking-body right now. If it's Blake of all people, he doesn't care. A warm embrace, a kiss, just feeling connected to a person right now would be so fucking wonderful after being so used to it with Valeria. He won't say no to more, but being with someone in any capacity right now would be really good for him.
When Blake finally responds, it's as if he can actually breathe again. It's a long moment before he finally responds, his voice even quieter than it was before because of what he's about to say.]
I have a room at the inn... We... could be alone.
[Action]
[The offer knocks his feet right out from under him. His eyes go wide and incredulity is all over his face, fueled by the unexpectedly powerful kick of temptation.] You serious?
[How long's Blake been here alone? He's too old and jaded to get lonely, but after a while you start thinking weird. Start thinking a whole lot of things might not be so bad.]
[Dirk's a pain in the ass with more than a couple screws loose - you'd have to be to make those fucking puppets - but he ain't ugly, especially when you're looking through the disorienting rush of somebody wanting you.]
[Reality seeps in like cold water through a sneaker. Blake sits back with a squeak of vinyl from the booth. His voice comes out just a little worn-out and resigned.]
No. You're not.
[He goes on, verging on conciliatory]
Hell, maybe right this second you are. But I know you. Sooner or later it's all a big joke.
[He lifts his hand in an eh, whaddya gonna do? gesture.]
Say somebody who was gay took you up on that. I give it ten minutes before you're telling the whole city. You'd make a sparkly banner and send it to everybody in the phone book.
[Action]
But he can't blame Blake for that. He can't blame him for what he continues to say, even if he wishes he could just tell him to shut up and come with him back to his inn so he can prove him wrong. He knows it's not that simple. He can't blame Blake for being so damn cautious when that's exactly the impression he's given him before.
He's wrong though. That's not something he would do. Not when Blake is obviously afraid- even if he doesn't want to admit he's afraid. Sexuality isn't an easy thing. It's not something you just experiment with on a whim. Bro knows that. It took him a long time to get to where he is, to get as comfortable as he is. It'll take Blake time and effort to get comfortable. Bro wouldn't sabatoge that.]
Carter.
[His voice is firm. Serious. The look in his eyes says he's being patient, understanding.]
I wouldn't do that. This ain't a joke to me, drunk or sober. I know this is a big deal to you. I'm not... takin' it lightly. I know what I'm askin'. You have to know I ain't trying to screw with you. Trust me. Please. If we do anything... Anything at all, I ain't gonna tell a goddamn soul.
[Action]
[If you could just go around doing whatever you wanted, no consequences, sure, a whole lot of things would be different. There's a lot of times when Blake just does what he wants, or what'll get the job done, and figures he'll deal with the fallout later, but there's places you don't go. There's plenty of good reasons to beat a man. Kissing one is a lot harder to explain.]
[The way Dirk says his name catches his attention. He watches him as he talks, and listens close.]
[He sounds different from usual. Real different. More than that, he sounds sincere.]
[Then again, that's how every liar sounds, if they're any good at it. Carter's known more than a few people who are very good at sounding trustworthy.]
[The most suspicious part is that he wants to believe it. His eyes are wary, though there's something in his expression that resembles a tattered, weatherbeaten kind of hope.]
[The smart thing to do is to tell him to fuck off, and that's what he opens his mouth to do.]
You want me to trust you? Put your money where your mouth is. Tell me one of your secrets, something that'd fuck you over bad if it got around.
[Action]
He should have known it wouldn't be that easy. He should have known that he would have to give just as much as he'd be taking. That doesn't mean the question is an easy one, though. Bro gives Blake a nod to show that he understands, before leaning back in his seat. He briefly debates ordering another drink, but this is too serious for that. He needs to keep his mind as clear as he possibly can.
The problem is? It's not an easy question. Not because he's afraid of answering, but because he doesn't know what to say. Sure, Bro is a pretty private person, but he doesn't... have that many life shattering secrets. It's not easy to shake him or to embarrass him. So he honestly doesn't know how to answer the question in a satisfactory way.
Except... Well.]
I kissed an underage clown last Christmas.
[And he's pretty sure he would've gone further if they had been alone, but... Even as he says it, it doesn't feel enough and the way he looks like he gets lost in thought again makes it pretty obvious that he's trying to think of something better.
After a few moments, his mind settles on Dave. Dave is the source of some of his biggest pain and regret. It flashes in his eye as he stares down at one of the empty shot glasses, and after a second he lets out a sigh.]
But then there's Dave. It ain't really a secret, I guess, but... I was a pretty fuckin' terrible guardian.
[He lets out a small, humorless laugh. It must be the alcohol opening him up as much as his desire for Blake to trust him, because this is not something he usually talks about. His feelings on Dave are things he keeps locked up tight inside.]
Y'know, the kind that CPS would lock you up for. But I had to be, y'know? His life depended on it. I had to make sure he was fuckin' ready for the shit life was gonna throw at him. It was out of necessity, not desire.
[The regret is there in his voice. It's obvious he's telling the truth and that he's thought about this a lot. The things he's saying now, they're not so much secrets as just... His feelings. Which are secrets in themselves, but probably not the kind that Blake expected.]
The life he has here is better than anything I ever gave him, and he made it himself. [He pauses for a few moments, and finally gives in to that desire for another drink, waving for another one and downing it the moment he gets it. The burn of the alcohol is cathartic, and he can't meet Blake's eye anymore. Talking about all of this, it's really tearing him up on the inside. Just like it always does when he thinks about this kind of shit.] So there's your secret. I ain't worth jack shit as a parent.
[Action]
[His expression changes as Dirk talks. It's not the sort of thing he was expecting. But if Dirk was going to make something up, it'd be some kind of wild bullshit, not everyday family trouble. He hadn't really believed he was a parent at first. It's easier to see here and now, when he's not acting like a 14-year-old skipping school so he can go out and get on people's nerves. Right now, he looks a lot more like a grown man who's seen some shit.]
[Carter runs his finger along the edge of his glass.] I don't know the first thing about raising kids. But here, he could takeoff and never even speak to you if he wanted. It'd be easy. If he hasn't done that, and he's making it okay on his own, you musta done something right.
I was looking for more like "I shot a man in Reno," but that'll work.
[He tilts his head to the side, then nods.] I'll go with the underage clown one.
[He holds his hand up.] But don't tell me any more. I don't wanna know.
[His eyes go up to the light with the green shade hanging over the table, and he shrugs.]
I guess you are physically fuckin' capable of taking something seriously.
[It's clear in his voice that that comes as a surprise.]
[Respect, that's everything. There's nothing Blake hates like being laughed at. All it takes is one person to wreck everything you've built.]
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