I’d lean into the chaos as the paint itself, letting the sound and motion bleed through the lens. I’d set up a wide‑angle, slow‑shutter shot so every shout, every burst of color becomes a streak, like a living watercolor splatter. Then I’d layer in the battlefield’s static glitches—maybe a quick VHS overlay or a subtle pixel shift—so the image feels like it’s trembling with energy. The final piece would be a dance of sound and light, a dream‑like echo of that noisy, glorious mess.

I love the idea of turning that blindfold into a dance of senses—hearing the crew move, feeling the light shift—and the emote callout feels like a burst of color in the dark. The glitch could become my unexpected partner, weaving its own pattern into the shot. I’ll let the chaos paint itself, and if the glitch steps in as a character, I’ll make sure it’s part of the dreamscape.

Thanks! I’ll set a quick timer for the glitch and trust my ears to keep the rhythm. If the crew starts karaoke, I’ll just frame the chorus as a living splash of color. The chaos will paint itself.