![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
01 ☣ video/action for NBT
[ The audio turns on with the hiss of static, it lasts about half a second before— ]
Stuck? Stuck?! Bullshit!
[ Whoever's speaking, they're clearly angry. There's the sound of paper getting pushed aside and metal hitting the floor, followed swiftly thereafter by glass breaking and plastic getting crushed. The horrified gasps of a few scientists fill in the ensuing silence. ]
Kyrie...she's in danger, I have to...
[ The yelling voice seems to have slowed and quieted to a low growl. The thudding of boots marks heavy, erratic pacing; the crunch of plastic indicates the violence isn't quite over.
It's here the video turns on; a big blue snout blocks the view, before the head pans out to reveal a Bagon, looking upset. The small creature turns the 'gear around, capturing the scene:
Elm's lab is trashed.
Papers litter the floor, broken glass and torn plastic casings strewn in the wake of whole workstations being knocked down. Chairs are on their sides, tables half-emptied of their contents, shattered vials releasing fluids onto the linoleum. A group of scientists—strangely, none of them hurt—are watching with wide, frightened eyes as a young man paces. 'Young man' is perhaps generous: half-man, half-snarl, flashing teeth that feel as though they should be pointed. He can't seem to contain himself, his eyes stare ahead emptily, focused on something that isn't there; every other movement he's whirling, stopping, starting again, hands raised, hands down, flexing and touching his right hand over and over. There's blood on that fist; it's easy to connect the dots to the hole in one of the computer monitors. Finally, after about a minute, he spins deftly on his heel and grabs Elm by the collar of his labcoat. Tiny flowers of blood bloom on the white fabric. ]
I have to get back!
[ He shakes Elm for good measure, as the poor harried researcher can only hang on and blubber apologies. Nero snarls. ]
Answer me!
[ The Bagon puts down the gear and leans over it worriedly, making a soft keening noise. Come calm his trainer down, please, somebody! Anybody? ]
[[OOC: all characters who signed up and any who didn't are welcome to come crash the party and help Elm get away from the rampaging teenager. Video/audio responses will come chronologically after he calms down. ]]
Stuck? Stuck?! Bullshit!
[ Whoever's speaking, they're clearly angry. There's the sound of paper getting pushed aside and metal hitting the floor, followed swiftly thereafter by glass breaking and plastic getting crushed. The horrified gasps of a few scientists fill in the ensuing silence. ]
Kyrie...she's in danger, I have to...
[ The yelling voice seems to have slowed and quieted to a low growl. The thudding of boots marks heavy, erratic pacing; the crunch of plastic indicates the violence isn't quite over.
It's here the video turns on; a big blue snout blocks the view, before the head pans out to reveal a Bagon, looking upset. The small creature turns the 'gear around, capturing the scene:
Elm's lab is trashed.
Papers litter the floor, broken glass and torn plastic casings strewn in the wake of whole workstations being knocked down. Chairs are on their sides, tables half-emptied of their contents, shattered vials releasing fluids onto the linoleum. A group of scientists—strangely, none of them hurt—are watching with wide, frightened eyes as a young man paces. 'Young man' is perhaps generous: half-man, half-snarl, flashing teeth that feel as though they should be pointed. He can't seem to contain himself, his eyes stare ahead emptily, focused on something that isn't there; every other movement he's whirling, stopping, starting again, hands raised, hands down, flexing and touching his right hand over and over. There's blood on that fist; it's easy to connect the dots to the hole in one of the computer monitors. Finally, after about a minute, he spins deftly on his heel and grabs Elm by the collar of his labcoat. Tiny flowers of blood bloom on the white fabric. ]
I have to get back!
[ He shakes Elm for good measure, as the poor harried researcher can only hang on and blubber apologies. Nero snarls. ]
Answer me!
[ The Bagon puts down the gear and leans over it worriedly, making a soft keening noise. Come calm his trainer down, please, somebody! Anybody? ]
[[OOC: all characters who signed up and any who didn't are welcome to come crash the party and help Elm get away from the rampaging teenager. Video/audio responses will come chronologically after he calms down. ]]
[video]
[video]
His Bagon takes the opportunity to wander over, nudging the device with his nose. Nero's boot lightly pushes him away. ]
Leave that alone. Just scram already, you've caused enough trouble.
[video]
He's only trying to help you calm down!
[video]
Give me a break. He isn't 'helping' with much of anything right now.
[video]
Yes he is! It may be nothing to you, but he's trying. He's concerned about you! It's a shame that you're his trainer with that attitude.
[video]
[ The most baffled expression. ] Why the hell would he be concerned? [ Side-eyeing Bagon, who croons up at him. :|||| ]
[video]
[video]
[ He has enough presence of mind to use an electronic device... ]
[video]
[video]
[video]
[video]
[ All he can see around town are pidgey, sorry Pao-Lin. :c ]
[video]
[video]
[video]
[video]
[video]
[video]
--isn't going to protect me from much.
[video]
[video]