.004 [Video]

[what_ho_jeeves]

[The camera is shaking and jostling about quite a lot. Bertie is up in a tree, clinging to a branch with one hand while trying to video post with the other.]

I say, can someone please give a chap a helping hand here?

[The picture jolts as Bertie yelps and looks at something below him, off camera.]

Nice puss puss puss. Good puss.




((OOC: Feel free to spam and use this as a Bertie Day In The Life In Port, too))

Comments

[truth_is_cold]

[Rhade didn't see Bertie's video post. He heard his voice, but he wasn't really paying attention. What he was paying to was the giant cat that came padding around the tree and saw him his fair distance away.

Ah, well, narrative law was clear. Rhade was about to have a giant cat barrelling at him, and Bertie would be forgotten up in his tree. And that's precisely how it happened.

Fortunately, Rhade was enjoying getting in touch with his inner caveman, and picked up two sizable rocks.] Doctor! [Yes, he was going to yell for his warden. Shut up! If this thing bit off his head he wanted someone to immediately bring him back to life.]

[what_ho_jeeves]

[Truly, Bertie would probably have been dead a hundred times over had it not been for narrative law and Jeeves. With Jeeves not around, narrative law had to pick up the slack, and it was doing a fine job of it. Bertie would be grateful, if he knew what narrative law was.

As it was, he makes a note to himself to thank the gentleman in red leather sometime. And possibly inquire after his tailor. That was a corking jacket unlike anything Bertie's ever seen before.]

Fuck you tenses! And you too, grammar! I hate you all and I'm not your friend!

[truth_is_cold]

[Rhade's going to have to borrow some of that narrative law. He's at a loss for a moment and realizes throwing the rock might be a little... primitive. Banging them together might just provide an aura of protective annoyance. So he peels off his nice jacket quickly, the turtleneck underneath (yup, with the cat stalking toward him), and makes the quickest flail in the history of flails.

Oh what would he give for those boneblades back right now.

He yells at the cat and barrels at it, swings the flail, and runs at the animal. And it balks and starts to swipe before it catches a good hard crack right on the head.

It sort of balks away, but doesn't seem out of the game yet. Just confused that this monkey creature managed to hit it so hard.] What are you doing still up in the tree? Get out of the tree! [Wait, was he stuck in the tree?]

[what_ho_jeeves]

[Narrative law frequently saved Bertie's life, but that doesn't mean it liked to make life easy for him. He tried to disembark from his arborescent perch but the soles of his (very fine) shoes couldn't gain traction and he slipped and ended up dangling by a branch, arms gripping it tightly and legs flailing in the air.]

The way down is a tad steep from here. [Kick kick with his legs, trying to get them back in contact with the tree.]

[truth_is_cold]

How did you get up there in the- [He jumps back, preparing as the cat seems to be ready to make another go for him. He starts swinging his shirt around again to make another strike, the rocks heavy with the motion.] -first place!?

[And then, miracle of miracles.... An orangutan jumped out of a nearby tree onto the animal's back. The animal yowls and takes off, the ape (and then ten other apes after it, where did those even come from?) pursuing it lowdly through the jungle.

Now... Rhade's just sort of confused... and he drops the rocks out of his shirt, looks up at Bertie, wrinkles his nose and shakes his head, and goes over to the tree to climb.] Don't fall.

[what_ho_jeeves]

I didn't much think about it. One minute I was firmly on the terra, the next there was a giant feline and I was scrambling up for my life.

[Bertie watched the orangutan squad chase away the cat. That was a bit of luck, wasn't it.

Less lucky was that his hands were slipping on the branch. Just as soon as Rhade said "Don't fall" Bertie lost his grip and went plummeting. Fortunately, there was a pile of dried palm fronds there to break his fall.]

[truth_is_cold]

[He stands and watches as Bertie lands, about to climb the tree. But then, oh well. At least he didn't have to put forth the effort. He brushes off his shirt and raises an eyebrow at Bertie.] I suppose that plan works as well.

[What's less lucky, at least for Rhade, is the orangutan that's come bumbling along after the group and has his jacket. And is looking at it very curiously. He turns to see it.]

That belongs to me! Drop it!

[what_ho_jeeves]

[Bertie sits up, his favourite Panama hat rather crushed, and sees the orangutan with excellent taste examining the jacket.]

Oh dear. He'll be after my waistcoat next. I'm sure the lack of tailors is frustrating for a sartorially inclined ape.

[truth_is_cold]

[And the startled look at the orangutan is redirected at Jeeves.] I don't believe fashion all that important in orangutan society.

[And he starts to approach, but the ape takes the jacket and turns away with it, in that threatening almost ready to run sort of stance. And Rhade wants the uniform coat back, but he doesn't want to have to climb a tree or battle an orangutan for it.]

Apparently that one is very fond of it, anyway. Is there any fruit I can offer it for a trade? [And what are they going to do if the orangutan squad comes back. He might have to contact his warden.]

[what_ho_jeeves]

[Bertie looks around him for fruit.]

Will this whatsits do? [He holds up a slightly mashed banana. There are no banana plants nearby, so where it came from is anyone's guess.]

[truth_is_cold]

[He needs a moment to look around and try to figure out where that banana came from. ...Nowhere obvious. Ooookay.] It might?

[The orangutan looks over it's shoulder skeptically at the two of them. Like it's listening in. As it's tasting the jacket. Nom, slick and shiny.]

[what_ho_jeeves]

[Bertie clumsily scrambles to his feet and moves towards the orangutan with the banana held outstretched in his hand.]

What ho...er...Ginger, do you mind if I call you Ginger? I have a good friend named Ginger; he's the Damon to my Pythias. Or was it the other way around? I can never remember with these Greek chaps.

...

Where was I?