nicholas d. wolfwood (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
asipofbride) wrote2023-09-03 08:29 pm
asipofbride) wrote2023-09-03 08:29 pm
[sermon 5] basically, my epiphany is that I see you for you
WHO: Nicholas D. Wolfwood and you
WHERE: the network, Undertown, and wherever else your heart may desire
WHEN: 9/3
WHAT: sometimes you are Nicholas D. Wolfwood, God's favorite jester, and a weird gray little man takes your arms and legs off with a bucket of fuck knows what; also known as 'Wolfwood finds out he's a selkie in a fun an interesting way'.
WARNINGS: Wolfwood swearing? not much else that I'm thinking off of the top of my head.
[i. network post; text to video; UN: ndwolfwood ]
jkl90JKLjdsaoi$#mj@jf fjdsfsd'fd''''fsdfsj4$kf l;ksd ;ldsnjnkkk
[ --and then the video portion of the post kicks in; there's a vague blackness that's way, way too close to the camera to be anything but fuzzy darkness, the vague sounds of the daily noises of life--further off traffic, distant voices, and heavy, distressed breathing.
Wolfwood('s voice) is also swearing up a blue streak as something hits his phone, over and over--presumably him? ]
Fuck, fuck, fuck, c'mon, will you just call Vash or Dante or fucking, somebody? Fuck, fuck, fuck--oi! Oi, oi, you get out of that pot and I'm ripping your fucking leg off, you hear me?!
[ the darkness leaves the phone and it's just staring up at the ceiling and there's a lot of distressed yelling--'no, no' interlaced with 'help' and Wolfwood continuing to use up this month's ration of the word fuck, the sound of a heavy piece of ceramic wobbling on the floor after a series of dull, angry thuds scored with a chorus of frightened yelling and more cursing, and then there's a heavy, laborious thumping as the fuzzy blackness drags itself back to the camera of the phone ]
Fuck, it called somebody? Fine, whatever-- Hey, uh. Whoever got this, this is Wolfwood, I'm in Undertown, and some asshole little gray man threw some sort of--juice on me that took my arms and legs. I could use a hand. Two hands. And if you could hold the little bastard while I bite his face off, that'd be great.
[ the voice in the background wails; 'but it's was only water, yes yes! no magic potion or GO AWAY YOU BEAST AIIIIE HELP ME!!'. the darkness moves away from the camera and the ceramic thumping and swearing recommences until the record function runs out of space and the post goes up. ]
[ii. out and about; wolfwood in distress ]
[ and for anybody who does go to find one Nicholas D. Wolfwood, his arms and legs seemingly stolen by a little gray man, they will instead find a rather middling-sized grayblack seal bouncing (somewhat literally) between harassing a poor Namazu shopkeep where he cowers in a large earthenware pot and attempting to scale a decently sized crate. if you're lucky, he might even be draped over the seat of the crate like the world's angriest sushi topper. an upturned bucket is left, listless, beside the trapped Namazu shopkeep.
sometimes you're god's funniest little clown and you are so, so full of rage about it.
arboreal seals real. ]
WHERE: the network, Undertown, and wherever else your heart may desire
WHEN: 9/3
WHAT: sometimes you are Nicholas D. Wolfwood, God's favorite jester, and a weird gray little man takes your arms and legs off with a bucket of fuck knows what; also known as 'Wolfwood finds out he's a selkie in a fun an interesting way'.
WARNINGS: Wolfwood swearing? not much else that I'm thinking off of the top of my head.
[i. network post; text to video; UN: ndwolfwood ]
jkl90JKLjdsaoi$#mj@jf fjdsfsd'fd''''fsdfsj4$kf l;ksd ;ldsnjnkkk
[ --and then the video portion of the post kicks in; there's a vague blackness that's way, way too close to the camera to be anything but fuzzy darkness, the vague sounds of the daily noises of life--further off traffic, distant voices, and heavy, distressed breathing.
Wolfwood('s voice) is also swearing up a blue streak as something hits his phone, over and over--presumably him? ]
Fuck, fuck, fuck, c'mon, will you just call Vash or Dante or fucking, somebody? Fuck, fuck, fuck--oi! Oi, oi, you get out of that pot and I'm ripping your fucking leg off, you hear me?!
[ the darkness leaves the phone and it's just staring up at the ceiling and there's a lot of distressed yelling--'no, no' interlaced with 'help' and Wolfwood continuing to use up this month's ration of the word fuck, the sound of a heavy piece of ceramic wobbling on the floor after a series of dull, angry thuds scored with a chorus of frightened yelling and more cursing, and then there's a heavy, laborious thumping as the fuzzy blackness drags itself back to the camera of the phone ]
Fuck, it called somebody? Fine, whatever-- Hey, uh. Whoever got this, this is Wolfwood, I'm in Undertown, and some asshole little gray man threw some sort of--juice on me that took my arms and legs. I could use a hand. Two hands. And if you could hold the little bastard while I bite his face off, that'd be great.
[ the voice in the background wails; 'but it's was only water, yes yes! no magic potion or GO AWAY YOU BEAST AIIIIE HELP ME!!'. the darkness moves away from the camera and the ceramic thumping and swearing recommences until the record function runs out of space and the post goes up. ]
[ii. out and about; wolfwood in distress ]
[ and for anybody who does go to find one Nicholas D. Wolfwood, his arms and legs seemingly stolen by a little gray man, they will instead find a rather middling-sized grayblack seal bouncing (somewhat literally) between harassing a poor Namazu shopkeep where he cowers in a large earthenware pot and attempting to scale a decently sized crate. if you're lucky, he might even be draped over the seat of the crate like the world's angriest sushi topper. an upturned bucket is left, listless, beside the trapped Namazu shopkeep.
sometimes you're god's funniest little clown and you are so, so full of rage about it.
arboreal seals real. ]