Rango de edades – Ejericio vocal Voice Over Script
Yo tengo cinco años de edad, y mi mamá dice que yo puedo tener una bicicleta nueva para mi cumpleaños, y luego, voy a tener seis.
Acabo de cumplir 10 hoy. Tengo este nuevo juego para mi X-Box. Es muy bueno, supongo. Debo tenerlo vencido mañana.
Tengo 16 años, amigo. Voy a ir con mi amiga Brittney esta noche. Ella es bastante calida, pero ella habla mucho. Espera, que me está enviando mensajes de texto ahora.
Es mi 25 cumpleaños. Es difícil de creer que ya tengo un cuarto de siglo de antigüedad. Tengo otra entrevista de trabajo mañana. He estado tratando de conseguir el puesto de supervisor en la oficina, entonces estoy un paso de administrar el lugar. Mantén tus dedos cruzados. Oh, Qué te dije? Tenemos otro bebé en camino!
Hoy tengo 40, no puedo creerlo. Todavía me siento como que estoy 25. Dicen que a los 40 es cuando la visión se comienza a ir y creo que tienen razón. Acabo contrataron este tipo como un nuevo supervisor. Parece realmente ambicioso. Me recuerda a mí, hace 15 años.
55, wow. Mentalmente, sigo siendo como un adolescente. Mi cuerpo tiene algunos dolores, pero nada demasiado malo si acabo de salir y hacer más ejercicio. No estoy deseando que llegue, pero voy a seguir adelante y unirme a AARP .. si no por otra cosa, por los descuentos. Bien podría aprovecharme de ello, ¿eh? He estado pensando en iniciar una carrera diferente. Estoy a punto de terminar con la vida corporativa. Sólo tienen algunas prioridades diferentes ahora. Tengo tres hermosos nietos, y uno más en camino!
Es mi 65 cumpleaños. Otro amigo de la escuela secundaria murió hoy. Está empezando a ocurrir con más frecuencia. Pasamos mucho tiempo juntos en aquel entonces. Él fue el que terminó casándose con Brittney. ¿Puedes creer que estaban juntos casi 50 años? Wow, cómo pasa el tiempo. Cada vez que paso por la antigua escuela secundaria, pienso en todos los recuerdos allí. Mi nieto mas grande, Devin se inicia allí la próxima semana. Soy muy afortunado de tener una familia tan maravillosa.
Hoy tengo 80. No soy tan animado como lo era antes, pero puedo ir por ahí. Yo no conduzco más, pero sobre todopuedo ponerme al día con la jardinería cuando el clima es agradable. Dicen que estoy empezando a olvidar las cosas, pero creo que simplemente no confían que pueda cuidarme de mí mismo. En verdad, yo necesito una mano de vez en cuando. Me hubiera gustado que los niños me llamaran más a menudo, quiero decir que soy su único padre. Pero yo sé que están ocupados con sus propias familias.
Hoy tengo 100. No me siento más viejo … Quiero decir, mentalmente. Físicamente, estoy cansado. Yo camino con un bastón y han caído un par de veces últimamente. He estado tratando de comer a pesar de todo, y ver mi nivel de azúcar en la sangre. Tienes que estar en forma y ágil para las damas .. Je, je .. * tos *. Trato de no gastar demasiado tiempo pensando en los viejos tiempos. El recuerdo y todo. Todo el mundo sabía lo que ha pasado en la escuela. Dos de mis hijos se han ido. Simplemente no es justo que los padres entierran a sus hijos. * sollozo *. Bueno, supongo que eso es todo lo que quiero hablar hoy. No hay mucho de un cumpleaños cuando los que amas y extrañas la mayoría de las veces no estan para compartir con ustedes. Es difícil conseguir viejo … lo que realmente es.
TOP-10 Scripts from Edge Studio's Voice Over Script Library
[Skyrim opens with an Imperial wagon driving four prisoners down a snowy mountain pass. All are seated and bound; the one dressed in finery is gagged.]
Ralof: Hey, you. You’re finally awake. You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there.
Lokir: D**n you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn’t been looking for you, I could’ve stolen that horse and been half way to Hammerfell. You there. You and me — we should be here. It’s these Stormcloaks the Empire wants.
Ralof: We’re all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief.
Imperial Soldier: Shut up back there!
[Lokir looks at the gagged man.]
Lokir: And what’s wrong with him?
Ralof: Watch your tongue! You’re speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King.
Lokir: Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You’re the leader of the rebellion. But if they captured you… Oh gods, where are they taking us?
Ralof: I don’t know where we’re going, but Sovngarde awaits.
Lokir: No, this can’t be happening. This isn’t happening.
Ralof: Hey, what village are you from, horse thief?
Lokir: Why do you care?
Ralof: A Nord’s last thoughts should be of home.
Lokir: Rorikstead. I’m…I’m from Rorikstead.
[They approach the village of Helgen. A soldier calls out to the lead wagon.]
Imperial Soldier: General Tullius, sir! The headsman is waiting!
General Tullius: Good. Let’s get this over with.
Lokir: Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh. Divines, please help me.
Ralof: Look at him, General Tullius the Military Governor. And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. D**n elves. I bet they had something to do with this. This is Helgen. I used to be sweet on a girl from here. Wonder if Vilod is still making that mead with juniper berries mixed in. Funny…when I was a boy, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe.
[A man and son watch the prisoners pull into town.]
Haming: Who are they, daddy? Where are they going?
Torolf: You need to go inside, little cub.
Haming: Why? I want to watch the soldiers.
Torolf: Inside the house. Now.
Galadriel: (speaking partly in Elvish)
(I amar prestar aen.)
The world is changed.
(Han matho ne nen.)
I feel it in the water.
(Han mathon ned cae.)
I feel it in the earth.
(A han noston ned gwilith.)
I smell it in the air.
Much that once was is lost, for none now live who remember it.
It began with the forging of the Great Rings. Three were given to the Elves, immortal, wisest and fairest of all beings. Seven to the Dwarf-Lords, great miners and craftsmen of the mountain halls. And nine, nine rings were gifted to the race of Men, who above all else desire power. For within these rings was bound the strength and the will to govern each race. But they were all of them deceived, for another ring was made. Deep in the land of Mordor, in the Fires of Mount Doom, the Dark Lord Sauron forged a master ring, and into this ring he poured his cruelty, his malice and his will to dominate all life.
One ring to rule them all.
One by one, the free lands of Middle-Earth fell to the power of the Ring, but there were some who resisted. A last alliance of men and elves marched against the armies of Mordor, and on the very slopes of Mount Doom, they fought for the freedom of Middle-Earth. Victory was near, but the power of the ring could not be undone. It was in this moment, when all hope had faded, that Isildur, son of the king, took up his father’s sword.
Sauron, enemy of the free peoples of Middle-Earth, was defeated. The Ring passed to Isildur, who had this one chance to destroy evil forever, but the hearts of men are easily corrupted. And the ring of power has a will of its own. It betrayed Isildur, to his death.
And some things that should not have been forgotten were lost. History became legend. Legend became myth. And for two and a half thousand years, the ring passed out of all knowledge. Until, when chance came, it ensnared another bearer.
It came to the creature Gollum, who took it deep into the tunnels of the Misty Mountains. And there it consumed him. The ring gave to Gollum unnatural long life. For five hundred years it poisoned his mind, and in the gloom of Gollum’s cave, it waited. Darkness crept back into the forests of the world. Rumor grew of a shadow in the East, whispers of a nameless fear, and the Ring of Power perceived its time had come. It abandoned Gollum, but then something happened that the Ring did not intend. It was picked up by the most unlikely creature imaginable: a hobbit, Bilbo Baggins, of the Shire.
For the time will soon come when hobbits will shape the fortunes of all.
To sit in solemn silence in a dull, dark, dock,
In a pestilential prison, with a life-long lock,
Awaiting the sensation of a short, sharp, shock,
From a cheap and chippy chopper on a big black block!
Do I really look like a guy with a plan, Harvey?
I don’t have a plan …
The mob has plans. The cops have plans.
You know what I am, Harvey? I am a dog chasing cars… I wouldn’t know what to do with one if I caught it.
I just do things. I am just the wrench in the gears. I hate plans.
Yours, theirs, everyone’s. Maroni has plans. Gordon has plans.
Schemers trying to control their worlds.
I am not a schemer. I show the schemer how pathetic their attempts to control things really are.
So when I say that you and your girlfriend was nothing personal, you know I am telling the truth.
I just did what I do best. I took your plan and turned it on itself.
Look what I have done to this city with a few drums of gas and a couple of bullets.
Nobody panics when the expected people gets killed. Nobody panics when things go according to plan, even if the plan is horrifying.
If I tell the press that tomorrow a gangbanger will get shot or a truckload of soldiers will be blown up, nobody panics. – because it’s all part of the plan.
But when I say that one little old mayor will die, everybody lose their minds.
Introduce a little anarchy, you upset the established order and everything becomes chaos.
I am agent of chaos.
And you know the thing about chaos Harvey?
“IT is FAIR.”
Hello, ladies, look at your man, now back to me, now back at your man, now back to me. Sadly, he isn’t me, but if he stopped using ladies scented body wash and switched to Old Spice, he could smell like he’s me. Look down, back up, where are you? You’re on a boat with the man your man could smell like. What’s in your hand, back at me. I have it, it’s an oyster with two tickets to that thing you love. Look again, the tickets are now diamonds. Anything is possible when your man smells like Old Spice and not a lady. I’m on a horse.
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