Lt. Carter Blake (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lieutenantantichrist) wrote2014-03-30 06:53 am
lieutenantantichrist) wrote2014-03-30 06:53 am
[16] [video/action for Olivine] - "I Eat Stickers All The Time."
Almost April, now.
[The sun's out, but there's still some chill lingering in the breeze. Blake is walking down one of the picturesque streets of shops in Olivine with his Snubbull perched on his shoulder, where she gnaws on something held in her paw. The Gear keeps pace a few steps in front of him and floats gently up and down. His Jumpluff has gotten pretty good at keeping steady.]
You know what that means? That makes it more than a year I've been on Crazy Bullshit Island.
[He gestures toward the screen with the bag in his hand.]
I could mope. I could try to figure out the chances of ever getting back to the real world. I could go sit an the place with the turtle always sleeping on the counter and make the bartender earn his tips by listening to me go on about how things are supposed to be. But you know what? Fuck it. It's a nice day, I've had over twelve months where I haven't had to bag and tag a severed foot out of anybody's freezer, and I've got a bag of factory irregular fortune cookies.
[He shrugs.] They were on sale.
[He opens the bag, digs one out, and bites off a piece.] Huh. Doesn't taste any different from usual. Wonder why they were marked down.
[As he crunches, he pulls the paper from inside. He reads it out.] "This year, most part, face will go out at dance hall."
Oh. [He pops the other half of the cookie in his mouth and talks through crumbs.] That's why.
Hey, Steve, what's yours say? [The little dog on his shoulder hands over her fortune.] "Okay. Probably is being victorious." Hey, that's good luck. It even almost makes sense. [Steve likes the sound of that one, and takes it to hold onto.]
[Blake holds the bag of fortune cookies up toward the camera.] Hey, you out there. You want to get the secrets of your future through some personalized gibberish, speak up.
[[Answer with a number from 7 to 851, and get your own garbled fortune! This is generated by me going to the designated page in this giant manga magazine, grabbing a line at random, and translating it terribly. Anybody in the Olivine area can come get some in person.]]
[The sun's out, but there's still some chill lingering in the breeze. Blake is walking down one of the picturesque streets of shops in Olivine with his Snubbull perched on his shoulder, where she gnaws on something held in her paw. The Gear keeps pace a few steps in front of him and floats gently up and down. His Jumpluff has gotten pretty good at keeping steady.]
You know what that means? That makes it more than a year I've been on Crazy Bullshit Island.
[He gestures toward the screen with the bag in his hand.]
I could mope. I could try to figure out the chances of ever getting back to the real world. I could go sit an the place with the turtle always sleeping on the counter and make the bartender earn his tips by listening to me go on about how things are supposed to be. But you know what? Fuck it. It's a nice day, I've had over twelve months where I haven't had to bag and tag a severed foot out of anybody's freezer, and I've got a bag of factory irregular fortune cookies.
[He shrugs.] They were on sale.
[He opens the bag, digs one out, and bites off a piece.] Huh. Doesn't taste any different from usual. Wonder why they were marked down.
[As he crunches, he pulls the paper from inside. He reads it out.] "This year, most part, face will go out at dance hall."
Oh. [He pops the other half of the cookie in his mouth and talks through crumbs.] That's why.
Hey, Steve, what's yours say? [The little dog on his shoulder hands over her fortune.] "Okay. Probably is being victorious." Hey, that's good luck. It even almost makes sense. [Steve likes the sound of that one, and takes it to hold onto.]
[Blake holds the bag of fortune cookies up toward the camera.] Hey, you out there. You want to get the secrets of your future through some personalized gibberish, speak up.
[[Answer with a number from 7 to 851, and get your own garbled fortune! This is generated by me going to the designated page in this giant manga magazine, grabbing a line at random, and translating it terribly. Anybody in the Olivine area can come get some in person.]]
no subject
Nobody likes some asshole trying to tell you what to fuckin' think.