Ahem … Fish gonna give it to ya, fish gonna give it to ya
First it’s gonna rock, then its gonna roll, once I get it’s eggs it’ll plead for all its toe! A fire-fish crying tears, oh, man that’s just so droll!
Once it’s fire goes down, I’ll feed it some more coal,
‘cuz Fish gonna give it to ya!
With what few apologies are due to DMX.
Fish is below, and White Chain is drowning in its mouth, but seems to float aside (judjing by the size relation change in the last two frames, the fish is faster)
White Chain is stunned, as evidenced by her wings disappearing, or at least is clever enough to affect being stunned so that Solomon David has to rescue her. She isn’t diving, she’s sinking.
“Please,” said the Wart, “I don’t know what I ought to ask.”
“There is nothing,” said the monarch, “except the power which you pretend to seek: power to grind and power to digest, power to seek and power to find, power to await and power to claim, all power and pitilessness springing from the nape of the neck.”
“Thank you.”
“Love is a trick played on us by the forces of evolution. Pleasure is the bait laid down by the same. There is only power. Power is of the individual mind, but the mind’s power is not enough. Power of the body decides everything in the end, and only Might is Right.
“Now I think it is time that you should go away, young master, for I find this conversation uninteresting and exhausting. I think you ought to go away really almost at once, in case my disillusioned mouth should suddenly determine to introduce you to my great gills, which have teeth in them also. Yes, I really think you might be wise to go away this moment. Indeed, I think you ought to put your back into it. And so, a long farewell to all my greatness.”
The Wart had found himself almost hypnotized by the big words, and hardly noticed that the tight mouth was coming closer and closer to him. It came imperceptibly, as the lecture distracted his attention, and suddenly it was looming within an inch of his nose. On the last sentence it opened, horrible and vast, the skin stretching ravenously from bone to bone and tooth to tooth. Inside there seemed to be nothing but teeth, sharp teeth like thorns in rows and ridges everywhere, like the nails in labourers’ boots, and it was only at the last second that he was able to regain his own will, to pull himself together, to recollect his instructions and to escape. All those teeth clashed behind him at the tip of his tail, as he gave the heartiest jack-knife he had ever given.
It’ll prolly never happen but it’d be cool if salami became WC’s Meti and joined the group as another mentor type character, purely because the story would then frame his advice as benevolent which would make the haters seeth.
Most likely outcome is he either crumbles to dust or berates her until she figures out her new body, then smash cut to the final battle.
“I’m trying” -White-chain
**Morphs into Yoda** -Salami-man Daniel
FISHING ARC FISHING ARC FISHING ARC!
fish
“Leviathan class lifeform detected. Are you sure that whatever you are doing is worth it?”
Ahem … Fish gonna give it to ya, fish gonna give it to ya
First it’s gonna rock, then its gonna roll, once I get it’s eggs it’ll plead for all its toe! A fire-fish crying tears, oh, man that’s just so droll!
Once it’s fire goes down, I’ll feed it some more coal,
‘cuz Fish gonna give it to ya!
With what few apologies are due to DMX.
“Over the lips through the gums, look out tummy here I come.” – Caleb, “Blood” PC game, 1997 msdos/windows by Monolith games
The fish is clearly Gog-Agog
Ok props on how the colors change underwater. That is pretty great.
oh fuck, that fish knows kung fu
Is is me or are they diving for the fish’s mouth rather than dodging? Not that dodging would do much good here.
Edit: No, actually, it’s coming from below isn’t it?
Fish is below, and White Chain is drowning in its mouth, but seems to float aside (judjing by the size relation change in the last two frames, the fish is faster)
*to its moth, not in yet
White Chain is stunned, as evidenced by her wings disappearing, or at least is clever enough to affect being stunned so that Solomon David has to rescue her. She isn’t diving, she’s sinking.
This one’s a bit late, but:
“Lord,” said Merlyn, not paying attention to his nervousness, “I have brought a young professor who would learn to profess.”
“To profess what?” asked the King of the Moat slowly, hardly opening his jaws and speaking through his nose.
“Power,” said the tench.
“Let him speak for himself.”
“Please,” said the Wart, “I don’t know what I ought to ask.”
“There is nothing,” said the monarch, “except the power which you pretend to seek: power to grind and power to digest, power to seek and power to find, power to await and power to claim, all power and pitilessness springing from the nape of the neck.”
“Thank you.”
“Love is a trick played on us by the forces of evolution. Pleasure is the bait laid down by the same. There is only power. Power is of the individual mind, but the mind’s power is not enough. Power of the body decides everything in the end, and only Might is Right.
“Now I think it is time that you should go away, young master, for I find this conversation uninteresting and exhausting. I think you ought to go away really almost at once, in case my disillusioned mouth should suddenly determine to introduce you to my great gills, which have teeth in them also. Yes, I really think you might be wise to go away this moment. Indeed, I think you ought to put your back into it. And so, a long farewell to all my greatness.”
The Wart had found himself almost hypnotized by the big words, and hardly noticed that the tight mouth was coming closer and closer to him. It came imperceptibly, as the lecture distracted his attention, and suddenly it was looming within an inch of his nose. On the last sentence it opened, horrible and vast, the skin stretching ravenously from bone to bone and tooth to tooth. Inside there seemed to be nothing but teeth, sharp teeth like thorns in rows and ridges everywhere, like the nails in labourers’ boots, and it was only at the last second that he was able to regain his own will, to pull himself together, to recollect his instructions and to escape. All those teeth clashed behind him at the tip of his tail, as he gave the heartiest jack-knife he had ever given.
– T. H. White, “The Once and Future King”
It’ll prolly never happen but it’d be cool if salami became WC’s Meti and joined the group as another mentor type character, purely because the story would then frame his advice as benevolent which would make the haters seeth.
Most likely outcome is he either crumbles to dust or berates her until she figures out her new body, then smash cut to the final battle.
That Metal Gear Rising music is perfect for the scene