Lt. Carter Blake

[31] [action] [mysterious bunker] "If Here By Now Then Bad Place Be"

Thu, 19 May 2016 14:42:16 GMT

[There is a man in a large underground room. It is floored with tile and the walls are set with mysterious plaques and significant mosaics. It is not where he intends to be.

The man stands at a console at a wall that is covered in a sequence of strange symbols. They are echoed on the console's input. He is regarding them and musing.]

Yeah, I get it. [He pushes aside the chair in front of the console and presses the symbol-marked buttons in a creful sequence.] Backwards R, squashed spider, squiggle, that thing from the Led Zeppelin album cover, foot. [He hits the green thing that appears to be an enter key.]

[A red X flashes on the screen, and a lot BZZZZT resounds through the base.

Blake says,] Hmm.

[His hand rests on his chin as he looks up at the wall.] In that case, the answer can only be,

[He grabs the chair, hoists it above his head, and slams it against the console repeatedly.]

FUCK - YOUR - HIEROGLYPHIC - HORSE - SHIT!

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[29] Video/Action for Goldenrod - "I will smack your face off of your face! Do not add a song!"

Sat, 23 Jan 2016 12:04:15 GMT

[A Pidgey flutters to a landing on a drainpipe in Goldenrod. In its beak is a tatter of a weather-bleached campaign poster bearing the left side of Carter Blake's face.

The camera turns to glimpse the Ludicolo carrying it, then follows a man's trudging boots. The eternal background music rises and shifts into a heavy, tramping rhythm underscored by a hiss of maracas.

There's a lady walking her Houndoor. When Blake treads in a puddle that splashes the dog, it growls at him, and Blake growls right back.

That gets attention from passersby on the other side of the street. Blake whirls on them.]

I see that rancid smile
You think that I'm all ruse
Well you can walk a mile
But keep your damn hands off my shoes

[He turns to harangue a new target, oblivious to the dance routine beginning around him.]

See, my job was to beat the chaos sane
You gotta make some messes
You can't be afraid to deal some pain
There's no time for second guesses
If meting out justice is what you wanna do
You gotta put a crack in a tibia or two

[His Snubbull leaps to grab a dancer's hand and gets whirled around in a circle.]

Who're you to say I did it wrong?
Who're you to judge my sins?
You say that you care about what's right and what's fair
What you care about is who wins

You say you want a hero?
They's not what you want to see
They don't turn back, they never crack
Wake up and look at me

[Blake sweeps his arm at the gathered crowd.]

I was doing fine, I was in the clear
Didn't break down, didn't drink
Til I ended up booted over here
With nothing but time to think

[He stomps down the street faster, but their choreography keeps them all close behind him.]

Back home, I had a place to lead
I had my city and I served it
Every time I made some bastard bleed
Hell, I knew that he deserved it
I did everything I could to clean up the filth and vice
I never gave a damn that I didn't do it nice

[His voice gets rapid and louder.]

So you give it all your sweat and blood
So you believe it to the bone
So what if you were wrong when you thought that you were strong
So what if who you fought is everything you're not
So what if you can't claim you're the same as when you came
So what if you're alone?

[Blake's violent gestures cut short. The background music has never seemed so loud as when it suddenly goes silent. He leans against a storefront window, where his dim and dusty reflection lingers.]

[softly]

You say you want a hero?
They's not what you want to see
They don't turn back, they never crack
Wake up and look at me

[His head jerks up to glare at the posed crowd staring at him.]

What?!

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[27] Video/Action for Goldenrod - "I'm Too Muscular. I Would Be a Bear."

Sat, 24 Oct 2015 04:49:50 GMT

[VIDEO]

[The face on the screen looks irritated. Also notably hairier. Maybe he just hasn't shaven in a while.]

So I go to walk around a while, I come back into town to get a shower and some socks, and I get bit by a bear with butterfly wings.

What the hell have you people been doing without me?

Steve isn't even much help. She spent three minutes beating the thing up and twenty coming up with the name Butterfring.

[He scratches his neck and winces. His nails need a trim.]

Point is, I need to know where you can go around here to get a rabies shot.

[ACTION OPTION 1]

[Not long after the broadcast, Blake has forgotten about the shot and put his attention to something more pressing: he is hungry as hell. He goes to a cafe and starts out by ordering some coffee and an omelette. At first he's annoyed by how the waiter gives his hairy arm a funny look (he's been out in the wilderness for a while here, buddy, there's not a lot of chances to clean up), it turns out it's so damn good he gets some more.

The maple syrup on the pancakes doesn't taste right. Must be cheap artificial crap. He gets honey instead.

Soon he's not bothering with ordering things one at a time. Soon he's not bothering with a fork.

He's shoveling pancakes, bacon, and sausage in his mouth with his bare claws, and he doesn't give a damn about anybody who's staring. It's goddamn delicious and he's hungry.]

[ACTION OPTION 2]

[Full. Was good. Tired now. Needs a nap.

Shoes didn't fit right. Took them off, stuck them in his bag. Toenails need a trim too. Ground under his feet feels better. Shirt fits funny, too. He scratches his shoulder, and looks. Thick, dark hair. Furry. Something not right about that. He'll deal with it tomorrow.

He lumbers down the street. Cold out here. Bright. He doesn't want a hotel. Chintzy, chatty. They smell like Lysolrock. He wants something that smells earthy. Nice and dim, quiet. Low. Someplace you can curl up.

Like there. Shadowy safe place. Smells like wood and roots. Gotta lean down and crawl under, but then it's nice. Cozy. Blake rests his head on his paws and shuts his eyes for a minute.

He is not aware that this happens to be under Roy Mustang's porch.]

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