Grendel (
murderpotato) wrote in
hadriel2016-10-22 01:25 am
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
video; high octane poor life decisions
[One day, Gren is going to learn a very valuable lesson: do not mix alcohol and drugs. That day is not today.]
[The video, when it turns on, swings wildly. Hopefully nobody gets seasick too easily, because damn, it's motion sickness central right here. The backdrop is... probably Delight's bar, if anyone can make sense of the video long enough.]
You know what? You know fuckin' what?
[Gren is drunk. Not only is Gren drunk, but he's also had like a handful of those other things that Delight hands out that get people high as shit, so he's both drunk and high. It's a terrible combination of belligerent and feeling untouchable that can really only lead to Bad Things.]
I'm fuck-all tired of bein' a fuckin' buffet for a bunch of shit-for-dick "gods"-- [The feed swings again, like he tried to do airquotes with only one hand. The hand that is also holding the camera.] --who can't get their fuckin' shit together long enough to not make everything a fuckin' clusterfuck. And then they treat us like we're fuckin' children or some shit, like we don't got the fuckin' right to decide what fuckin' happens to us. We're the fuckin' burdens, but they're the one bringin' in fuckin' monsters and dragons and shit to drop on our fuckin' heads. Fuckin' thanks for that, assholes.
[The feed swings around and then back; he's grabbed another bottle of something alcoholic and knocks an unhealthy portion of it back. Seriously, he's a champ, if your definition of 'champ' is 'fucking alcoholic'.]
Like that fuckin' piece of fuck Sorrow. Fuck that guy, oughtta smack the fuckin' bitch outta that motherfucker.
[He pauses. Something terrible is about to happen.]
I fuckin' oughtta smack the fuckin' bitch outta that guy.
[His voice shifts from rant mode to something firmer and slightly less profanity-ridden.]
Hey, all you fucks. [Slightly less.] I'm comin' for all you fuckin' godly piece of shits. C'mon and fuckin' have a go if you think you're fuckin' hard enough.
[He turns. Delight is behind the bar.] 'Cept for you. You're fuckin' okay.
[The video, when it turns on, swings wildly. Hopefully nobody gets seasick too easily, because damn, it's motion sickness central right here. The backdrop is... probably Delight's bar, if anyone can make sense of the video long enough.]
You know what? You know fuckin' what?
[Gren is drunk. Not only is Gren drunk, but he's also had like a handful of those other things that Delight hands out that get people high as shit, so he's both drunk and high. It's a terrible combination of belligerent and feeling untouchable that can really only lead to Bad Things.]
I'm fuck-all tired of bein' a fuckin' buffet for a bunch of shit-for-dick "gods"-- [The feed swings again, like he tried to do airquotes with only one hand. The hand that is also holding the camera.] --who can't get their fuckin' shit together long enough to not make everything a fuckin' clusterfuck. And then they treat us like we're fuckin' children or some shit, like we don't got the fuckin' right to decide what fuckin' happens to us. We're the fuckin' burdens, but they're the one bringin' in fuckin' monsters and dragons and shit to drop on our fuckin' heads. Fuckin' thanks for that, assholes.
[The feed swings around and then back; he's grabbed another bottle of something alcoholic and knocks an unhealthy portion of it back. Seriously, he's a champ, if your definition of 'champ' is 'fucking alcoholic'.]
Like that fuckin' piece of fuck Sorrow. Fuck that guy, oughtta smack the fuckin' bitch outta that motherfucker.
[He pauses. Something terrible is about to happen.]
I fuckin' oughtta smack the fuckin' bitch outta that guy.
[His voice shifts from rant mode to something firmer and slightly less profanity-ridden.]
Hey, all you fucks. [Slightly less.] I'm comin' for all you fuckin' godly piece of shits. C'mon and fuckin' have a go if you think you're fuckin' hard enough.
[He turns. Delight is behind the bar.] 'Cept for you. You're fuckin' okay.
voice
Yeah, he offered a half-eaten bag of crappy chips that have been sitting rubberbanded in the bottom of a drawer for twelve days.
So what.
. . . ]
[ clears his throat ]
Bunny taser?
voice
[Oh look, another subject!]
Yes, a few months ago when I was brought here there were adorable-looking weapons everywhere instead of strange snacks. I wasn't going to pick any up, but well. This one just called to me. Figuratively, of course.
voice
[ Even if he'd have had to decide how it looked to be using something in the shape of an animal.
Still -- it's not surprising Kuchiki-san would be unable to resist the bunny. It's voice, but she might be able to hear a smile. ]
Of course. Now you just need the opportunity to use it.
voice
[There's the thing, she can only just imagine Ishida using some adorable version of knuckle- dusters in the shape of cat ears, or a pink knife hidden in a comb with pretty flowers--and it's rather amusing, that image. Not that she'll tell him about it.]
I'm sure a circumstance will come up eventually, given this place.
voice
[ and lbr, he'd have gotten so much use, and such a variety of uses, out of that kind of knife-comb.
He's himself enjoying the mental image of Kuchiki-san tasering someone (who looks a lot like Kurosaki, in his head), with a bunny-shaped taser. ]
Let me know when it does.
voice
[A mental image that is even better in Rukia-vision, where everyone looks like bunnies too.]
I'll endeavor to make a recording for you when it does.