![[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]
Says who?
[ WHO DOES HE HAVE TO KILL--no Nero, violence is not the answer. ]
[Video]
[Video]
[ He turns his face away, growls low, then frustratedly punches the ground--Nero no that's your injured hand...ouch. If he's in pain, he's either too angry to feel it or he's keeping a lid on it. ]
[Video]
If we were able to go back, I'm sure half of us here would have gone back already. [ A pause. ] Sometimes the people we want to see come here themselves.
[Video]
That's not good enough. [ He's imagining horrible scenarios, which is probably not helpful to his overall mental health. ] I can't let anything happen to her.
[Video]
This might not mean much either, but I remember someone telling me that when we're here, our world sort of just... stops.
[ There really is no other way she could explain it. ]
[Video]
[ The second comment--makes him snort. ]
Cut the crap. I don't have time for this.
[Video]
But you have time to mess up someone's home?
[Video]
You think this is a house? Get your eyes checked. What was I supposed to do, shut up and take this lying down? Like hell.
[Video]
If that doesn't work, what then?
[Video]
Then I'll do whatever it takes to get back to her. I'll flatten anything that gets in my way.