005 ♔ [video][backdated to the weekend]
[The footsteps are hurried but heavy and lack any real rhythm - someone is stomping through undergrowth, tripping up every few steps on a hidden rock or a stretching tree root. Every single time there's a disruption, the listener might hear a hissed swear word, an angry little grunt, or a pathetic little yelp of surprise.
Then there's a giggle. The giggle sounds far closer to the device - and it seems to come from more than one voice.
The camera comes on.
A figure in red and white is crashing through the forest, followed by a saddled white horse plodding along obediently. Strangely, the camera is following the figure's progress as he tremples over heather and bracken.
And it's giggling.
If one looks closely, they might see fine green fingers holding the communicator up.
There's only one man in Demeleier who sports such a vibrant read duckbutt hairstyle. Battler stops and leans back against a tree, a breathless, bitter laugh in his throat. The camera edges closer.]
-eless, it's all useless!
[There's a particularly helpless whine in his voice that adds some level of credence to his words. His breath comes out strangely like a sob. The horse just looks at him, then starts cropping grass, as if this isn't the first time this has happened. Slumping, Battler's hands run back into his hair. His sigh is heavy; tired and distressed.]
- what kind of a witch do you have to be, haa? Come on, Beato! You're going to fall behind like this! [His smile, when he looks up again, striding away from the tree and balling his hands at his sides, is full of a fierce sort of bravado.] Don't you see all the shit happening when you're off being lacksadaisy? It's no good, Beato! It's no good! [And then he lowers his head again, shoulders shaking.] I'm no --
Tch! This wasn't in the rules, you know - I think I should be able to get one game out of the way first, right? This is just unsportsmanly! -- hey, come to think of it, Beato!! What kind of a wife abandons his husband like this?
[But he knows that at least that gripe is ridiculous, and sags once more, defeated. He trudges on, followed by horse and faery entourage, his voice lowering but the rant continuing.]
The day I've had, too - can't find a damn thing until it's all too late, and now I'm fighting off - [possibly with some amusement now] - these rude trees trying to get a hold of me! I'm a taken man now, or so I should be -- ahhh, useless...
[The horse glances back, as if pretending it's not with the snivelling, useless man. It happens to catch sight of the fae following them and, nudging its master's shoulder, tries to get his attention. Battler just pats it half-assedly, then gives it a light and totally ineffective shove.] Get off, horse. You don't even have a name! She couldn't even name you before she left - typical, typical! All this responsibility and she leaves it on me - I'm sorry. [He stops walking. His shoulders quiver, and this time when his head falls forward into his hands, there's a soft, stifled sob in his voice.] I'm sorry, I'm sorry - [ - Ange, Maria, Jessica --
but it seems that the Battler Show now has a very special guest! And it's a particularly hairy man who appears to have goat legs, peering out from behind a tree. Naturally, Battler fails to notice.
The creature steps closer to him, looking oddly timid. Battler continues to cry.
It places a hand on his shoulder. Battler mutters something about dumb horses and tries to shrug it off, still not looking up.
It's not until the urisk looks over to the camera, shakes its head, and says 'You little ones oughtn't be stealing' that battler realises he has hairy company.
The recording switches off.]
Then there's a giggle. The giggle sounds far closer to the device - and it seems to come from more than one voice.
The camera comes on.
A figure in red and white is crashing through the forest, followed by a saddled white horse plodding along obediently. Strangely, the camera is following the figure's progress as he tremples over heather and bracken.
And it's giggling.
If one looks closely, they might see fine green fingers holding the communicator up.
There's only one man in Demeleier who sports such a vibrant read duckbutt hairstyle. Battler stops and leans back against a tree, a breathless, bitter laugh in his throat. The camera edges closer.]
-eless, it's all useless!
[There's a particularly helpless whine in his voice that adds some level of credence to his words. His breath comes out strangely like a sob. The horse just looks at him, then starts cropping grass, as if this isn't the first time this has happened. Slumping, Battler's hands run back into his hair. His sigh is heavy; tired and distressed.]
- what kind of a witch do you have to be, haa? Come on, Beato! You're going to fall behind like this! [His smile, when he looks up again, striding away from the tree and balling his hands at his sides, is full of a fierce sort of bravado.] Don't you see all the shit happening when you're off being lacksadaisy? It's no good, Beato! It's no good! [And then he lowers his head again, shoulders shaking.] I'm no --
Tch! This wasn't in the rules, you know - I think I should be able to get one game out of the way first, right? This is just unsportsmanly! -- hey, come to think of it, Beato!! What kind of a wife abandons his husband like this?
[But he knows that at least that gripe is ridiculous, and sags once more, defeated. He trudges on, followed by horse and faery entourage, his voice lowering but the rant continuing.]
The day I've had, too - can't find a damn thing until it's all too late, and now I'm fighting off - [possibly with some amusement now] - these rude trees trying to get a hold of me! I'm a taken man now, or so I should be -- ahhh, useless...
[The horse glances back, as if pretending it's not with the snivelling, useless man. It happens to catch sight of the fae following them and, nudging its master's shoulder, tries to get his attention. Battler just pats it half-assedly, then gives it a light and totally ineffective shove.] Get off, horse. You don't even have a name! She couldn't even name you before she left - typical, typical! All this responsibility and she leaves it on me - I'm sorry. [He stops walking. His shoulders quiver, and this time when his head falls forward into his hands, there's a soft, stifled sob in his voice.] I'm sorry, I'm sorry - [ - Ange, Maria, Jessica --
but it seems that the Battler Show now has a very special guest! And it's a particularly hairy man who appears to have goat legs, peering out from behind a tree. Naturally, Battler fails to notice.
The creature steps closer to him, looking oddly timid. Battler continues to cry.
It places a hand on his shoulder. Battler mutters something about dumb horses and tries to shrug it off, still not looking up.
It's not until the urisk looks over to the camera, shakes its head, and says 'You little ones oughtn't be stealing' that battler realises he has hairy company.
The recording switches off.]