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]
[Then those words sink in.] Jesus. I...
[I want you. Christ, those are words that kick you in the gut and go straight to your head. A hell of a thing to hear from any young, good-looking blond. Straightforward, to his face, right out in the open, orange eyes locked on him. For a second that shows on his face, anything like a thought is swept out of Carter's head.]
[Then the old self-preservation kicks in.]
[Blake's no fancy valedictorian, but he has enough low kind of smarts to keep his head above water all these years. If he's even gonna consider this (he can't be fucking considering this), he has to check for mines and tripwires every step of the way. A whole lot of things don't add up. The means and opportunity are right there, but there's one missing piece.]
Hold on a minute. There's one thing I don't get. [The corner of his mouth quirks, and he amends that.] Okay, there's a lot of things I don't get, but the most important one is, where did this come from all of a sudden? You keep dogging me, you give me shit, you throw puppets at me in jail, and now you wanna...?
[He trails off. He can't quite get himself to say it.]
All I'm saying is it's a hell of a way to get back at me for hitting you.
[Action]
It takes him a moment of thought to even be able to answer that question. He's not really thought of his motivations, he's just been. Doing. That's what he usually does anyway, just now it's been fueled by something a lot different. He doesn't know quite how to answer it, until after thinking about it, it finally comes to him.
Of course, he'd known what caused this behavior- Valeria- but not specifics. Not until now. It takes a lot of effort to be able to get it out, because it just seems so fucking childish. It's not something he wants to admit to himself, let alone Blake, but he knows if he wants to do anything about it he has to admit it.]
It's because I'm goddamn lonely, alright?
[His tone is similar to Blake's had been earlier when he had admitted to liking the kiss. It's frustrated and has a desperate tinge to it. He doesn't want to be saying it- he's not mad at Blake for asking, he's mad that it's a thing that he's feeling at all.]
You have somebody for long enough and then they disappear, it fucking sucks. I just want to be fucking close to someone again for one goddamn night.
[Action]
[Carter shoots back] Why me and not somebody else?
[If Dirk gets frustrated with the grilling and gives up, that'll make it easy. It'll prove it's just a momentary lapse of sanity on his part. Better to find out now than later.]
[Shit. It's a stupid fucking risk to even think about. Safe and smart is going home alone and never thinking about what might've happened. He doesn't need anybody. He's been on his own for a long time and he's been fine. Lack of getting laid never killed anybody.]
[Carter lets out a long breath. He runs his thumb along the edge of the table, and pitches his voice low.]
Look.
I can't make any promises, all right? I'm not saying I'll go through with it.
[He glances at Dirk from under his brows. Every word's a fight against all the warning lights going off in his head.]
And you don't say a word about any of this. Not to anybody. Not now, not in fifty years.
[Action]
[And because... He doesn't know. At first it seemed like a good trolling attempt and then it turned into something more serious. Once he'd started seeing Blake as an actual person, his desire to actually have a night with him became more sincere. Maybe it was stupid and idiotic but it's not like he could control his feelings.
There was also the fact that Blake was there. He was easy- or at least, easy enough. There were a lot of reasons he was picking Blake instead of someone else and just no easy way to actually explain it.]
And because maybe after this conversation I've realized you're pretty hot. Who'd've thought that would happen, right? [He's trying to make things a little more lighthearted now. They've been so serious, it's about time he lightens it up somehow.] Besides, I was lyin' when I said your butt was a zero. I'd give it a three and a half, maybe four.
[When Blake says that though, he gives him a nod. He understands. He knows it's not an easy decision to make. Bro is perfectly willing to be patient.]
What about you come back to my room and take a free trial, then? Any point in time you decide you wanna back out, then you can. No questions asked. And I'll take it with me to my grave.
[Beyond wanting to just be with someone, this is turning into more than that. It's also about how he wants Blake to open up a little. To experience a part of himself that he's denying. If he can get Blake to open up and realize that homosexuality ain't a bad thing, then that would be a victory in itself.]
[Action]
[What else did he expect? Just looking for the flattery that somebody a good ten years younger than him wanted him? Come on.]
[He has it in his head to get up and go right then, but Dirk slows him down. He's not sure how much of it's a joke, but it's a little better to hear. He pauses. There's a lot of ways he could go.] Oh yeah?
[The corner of his mouth twitches.] I bet I could bargain it up to a five.
[Carter's fingers knit together. They're thick, with knuckles that've seen more than their share of faces at high velocity.] All right. So. There it is. Comes down to a yes or a no, yeah?
[He closes his eyes and tips his head back against the booth. No more ways to delay. His heart's beating quicker than it should be. Fight or flight, right? This is dangerous and all kinds of a bad idea. Every road from here leads straight to disaster - but first it goes past a good night with a handsome bastard who pisses him off and keeps him guessing. The guy whose mouth he can still fucking feel.]
[Pretend just for a minute.]
[Carter opens his eyes and looks at him.]
[It's a quick, tight nod.]
[He goes to pay the tab.]
[Action]
[It's not something he's proud of- needing someone right now so damn much. But it's not like it's exactly his fault, either. Valeria had more of an effect on him than he ever thought she would- then again, in a way it is his fault. He never should have given in and gotten with her. It went against everything he'd ever done in his life. But it was easier here, when he had less worries and shit. Getting close to someone seemed like less of a bad thing.
As it turned out, that was fucking wrong because it made you pine after a fucking cop with a bad attitude.
A small, amused smirk twitched at his lips, but when Blake followed up with the next part, he couldn't bring himself to say anything. Suddenly he felt tense and nervous. He told himself that if Blake said no, it would be okay. Bro wasn't going to fucking beg for it, after all. He'd accept that Blake just wasn't down for it and try and move the fuck on. He could find someone else.
His eyes were studying Blake intently, trying to get a read on him. He could tell the man was conflicted and he wanted to say something reassuring, but what the fuck could he say? Bro had already spilled his life story. He'd already done everything he could do to make Blake trust him. It was up to Blake now.
And then finally, that nod. It's like a weight is lifted and he can relax again. A smile spreads across his lips, probably the most genuine expression he's worn in a while. He'd fucking won. He did it. Blake had finally given in. It felt fucking great. For Blake's benefit, he stayed at the table for a moment so no one would get the wrong idea that they were too close or something, and then he stood up and headed for the exit.
That's where he stays, waiting for Blake to come out. When Blake is back in earshot, he'll say,]
You won't regret this. I fuckin' swear. You'll have the time of your life.
[Action]
[But something about that smile on his face makes him feel a little less like an idiot.]
[And something else, something small that he always shouts down, says it would be a lot stupider to shut down the chance for something good.]
[Cold air smacks him in the face when he heads out. It doesn't do much to clear his head. Dirk's there, waiting for him. He could turn around right now and walk away.]
[He walks beside him and mutters] Won't regret anything as long as you can keep your mouth shut.
((ooc: should we head to private journals?))
no subject