BLOOD FOR BLOOD FALCON [video]

[bloodvile]

[Lo! Somewhere in the library is some student of Smash Academy at the public computers, making a post to the network and probably asking about homecoming dance or something. Somewhere in the library off screen there is a barking voice, obviously annoyed and sounds suspiciously like Captain Falcon.]

Keep it down with your stupid video diary, I'm trying to think!

[S-Sorry, coach! The kid says, then goes on to timidly explain that it's not a video diary, but a post to the school's network! The kid looks back at the recording video apologetically while "coach" can be heard muttering off-screen.]

Network? For the school? So everyone can see what you're doing right now?

[...Yeah? This appears to have sealed the nameless student's fate, and suddenly there is the torso of a man in bright red spandex with ridiculous thighs behind him. The kid is grabbed by the scruff of his shirt collar and violently thrown clear across the room into a bookshelf. The shelf teeters backwards then falls into the next shelf behind it, and then the one behind it, and it's a magnificent domino effect to which does not seem to concern him. If anything he seems proud of the fact there are now books are everywhere and the kid probably has a word concussion. Red spandex coach-sound-alike sits down in front of the computer. He is also a coach-look-alike! Only EVIL LOOKING. It's probably skull on his helmet and the spikes on his shoulder pauldron. Or maybe Falcon is going through some midlife crisis and felt like a wardrobe change and got lost in a Hot Topic. Or it's some crazy clone.]

Hi. [Either way, this coach also has fangs, which are easily seen the moment he starts speaking.]

I know you're here. I saw the your shitmobile in the parking lot. Or, you know, was in the parking lot. [He grins. It's an awful fang-filled kind of grin. WHAT DID HE DO... HE DID SOMETHING BAD.] And the big floating hand said so. I'm going to find you eventually, so why don't you make this easy and come out of hiding. I'm not going anywhere until then!

Comments

[vianca]

[Things that are not ok: ALL OF THESE THINGS. Vianca had been coming around the corner to investigate barking mcfalconson but was now coming around the corner extra fast because WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO HER SHELVES WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO HER PATRON.]

... What are you doing.

[BAD INFLUENCES.]

[bloodvile]

[TERRIBLE INFLUENCES.]

What does it look like? I'm using the computer.

[vianca]

I can see that.

[Falcon when did you start wearing tacky skulls... Anyway, Vianca stared at him and made a broad sweeping motion at pile of shelves.]

What just happened?

[bloodvile]

[He follows her hand and makes it clear with his smile he has absolutely no remorse for what just happened.]

Someone had an accident.

[He stands, levering his full height against her.]

The library's a dangerous place to be.

[vianca]

[Oh hello, he was very tall. It was also quite clear to her now that this was not the man that had adopted her sister. Or at least not the same mind. Another course of action would have been better, in hindsight. It was always in hindsight.

Vianca moved away from him, moving at a relatively calm (for the moment), brisk pace in the direction of the front desk.]

[bloodvile]

[Calm or not, she was moving away from him which he likened to sweet little prey attempting to escape.]

Where do you think you're going?

[He makes a lunge for her, trying to wrap his fingers around the scruff of her shirt or at worst, the back of her hair.]

[vianca]

[Those white strands had just barely been within his grasp until they suddenly were not. THE WHOLE GIRL WAS GONE. How did that happen where did she go.

Whether or not the momentum of his lunge sent him stumbling forward, a tiny white thing had hit the ground and was darting underneath his legs. Squeak squeak.]

[bloodvile]

[WHAT HAPPENE

WHERE DID SHE GO?

HOW DOE GRAB AIR]

What...?!

[Needless to say, Blood did not expect that in the slightest. He ambles forward, then lurches with his ass in the air. He looks between his legs to see the little white thing that may or may not have been that little girl run on by. He stood upright and did a quick left-right glance around the library just to make sure she didn't actually run off somewhere unseen before he decided to give chase to the little white thing running away from him.

Okay so maybe he couldn't grabbing wasn't a good idea anymore, so he revised his tactic to attempted STOMPING or KICKING.]

Come here, whatever you are!

[vianca]

[Nope nope nope she was noping out of there as fast as her little nubbins would go. It was kind of like watching a really weird looking chipmunk dart away under the computer desk. So speedy. So tiny. SO STOMPABLE.

Despite the stomping hazard, it really would have been ideal for Vianca if she could have kept it up. Being so tiny meant she could have hid under the toppled bookcases or practically anywhere else. But as things were now, she could barely breathe with her torn petals. Her held breath only lasted her until she cleared the computer desk, and then she had to switch back with a particularly loud gasp of breath.

JUST KEEP RUNNING JUST KEEP RUNNING.]

[bloodvile]

[If she didn't gasp so audibly he might have been sated flipping a few random desks for violence's sake, laughing an evil laugh and calling it there. But no, she had to go and make sound, so he's zeroing in on that and stomping right over.

He will flip over at least one desk, and it is the one she is hiding behind/running from. SURPRISE!]

I found you!

[Time to attempt lunge number two.]

[testgasm]

Hey, uh...

[There is a British voice from beyond the chaos. It is Library Robot, summoned by the sound of destruction not of his doing. This seems fairly suspect to him, and a brief survey of the situation makes that clear. Desks are being overturned, shelves are toppling, and it's not his fault.

Also it seems like Vianca is maybe in trouble a little bit.]

I don't mean to--don't mean to interrupt, exactly.

[Interrupts Library Robot in his tall, gangly Library Robot chassis.]

But, ah. That's our--that's our librarian, and I'd really--really appreciate it if you left her--left her alone.

[vianca]

[Just a little.

Who would have thought she had gotten caught for being too noisy. Gosh. Well. Lunge number two was far more successful, and a lot more compromising, and all Vianca could think to do was bite down super hard on her lower lip. Maybe she could poison his face.

Maybe a tall, gangly Library Robot chassis could appear. Oh. Vianca had never been more grateful for the robot's interruptions.]

Wheatley!

[bloodvile]

[Man who was this dickwad. Like Gazelle had a stupid looking little robot brother from the robot reject factory in British Michigan or something.]

Maybe you should tell her to leave me alone if she knows what's good for her.

[He hoists her up like a ragdoll, giving a little shake for emphasis. It's all her fault.]

You want her back?

[testgasm]

[Wheatley's glowing optic darts from this weirdo to Vianca and back again. Something tells him it is not a good idea to mess with this guy, so that means he is compelled to do so.]

Uh, yes. Please.

[He holds his arms out tentatively.]

I would like her back. Gently, if you would.

[vianca]

[It was one of those rare times that Vianca's face had changed at all, contorting in distress and pain. She had tried to scoot away but curse those grab-able looking braids, they had become a convenient hand-hold that was really not the best place to get shaken around from.

She gave Wheatley a somewhat pathetic look that was going to be completely lost on the helper robot, because she had a very good feeling that any sort of return was not going to be gentle in the slightest.]

[bloodvile]

[Would if he could. No it was not.

Blood throws her into him in the exact opposite way of gentle. The most oppositest way of gentle you can get.

He practically spikes her like a tiny white little flower football into the gangly robot eyeball reject I am so sorry Vianca.]

[vianca]

[WAS THAT BETTER THAN GETTING SHAKEN AROUND BY THE BRAIDS? NO. VERY NO. At least she knew gut feelings were completely correct.

The only downside to robots is that they were not very soft by any means. The only sounds that accompanied colliding with robots were general bangs and crunches and nothing very good.

There was a bang. And maybe a crunch. And nothing very good.]

[testgasm]

No, no, nono, no, wait, that's not gentle--

[Wheatley couldn't say he expected it to be gentle, but he is wholly unprepared for this kind of launching, and even with his arms outstretched, he's still vaguely unaccustomed to having legs, and therefore doesn't really know that weight distribution is a thing.

Vianca crashes into him and he stumbles backwards, unable to keep his balance. He manages to wrap his arms tightly around her, as if that will cushion the blow, but it doesn't change the fact that all of his limbs are made of metal. Wheatley doesn't imagine that being launched into a robot is very pleasant, to say nothing of falling on top of one.

He crumples to the ground, all bent angles and cold steel, and he can't help but feel like this is even worse for her.]

Ow...

[vianca]

[It probably super was, but Vianca was not the type to complain if she didn't have to, unless you counted a pathetic little whimper as a complaint. Then she was complaining.

But she appreciated the thought, as it was more than she would have expected from him. She shifted slightly- owowow- and tried to look at him.]

A-Are you ok? Did you break?

[She asked the robot. Because he said ow.]

[bloodvile]

[She was still talking and he was still moving so clearly they were not broken enough. Suddenly there was a boot crushing on top of Vianca's body--whatever part of her that was on top of Wheatley's tiny little torso. That was going to be the anchor of decimation, as Blood proceeded to put all his weight on that spot.]

Not yet.

[He grabbed one of Wheatley's robot legs and pulled and pulled, until something had to give.]

[testgasm]

Agh! No, no, nono--

[Though Wheatley certainly didn't feel it to the degree that humans did, he was still programmed to feel pain, and since his chassis was an Aperture product designed to interface with his main core, that apparently included the pain of being dismembered.

He did not usually have limbs for crazy psychopaths to rip off, but he had, at one time, experienced being crushed, and he remembered enough about it to know that it was entirely unpleasant and not something he wanted to happen to Vianca. He can feel the sharp pressure on his chest and know that it must be even worse to be in direct contact with his boot.]

Stop, stop, stop stop stop--

[He tries to keep his arms around Vianca, to push the boot away and make some kind of protective metal cage over her, even as this crazy guy was tearing his leg off, wires popping and snapping one by one.]

[vianca]

[This time Vianca did not utter a peep. If she were a stronger, cooler person, it would have been so this horrible influence of a man could not get the continued satisfaction of hearing a little girl break. But she wasn't very strong at all, but speaking up had landed them in this mess. Making noise had made things worse. Wheatley was getting ripped apart because of her. She was crying and blood dripped down her chin, but she wasn't going to make a sound.

Getting crushed was not great. In fact, she was rapidly becoming convinced that this was how she was going to die. To think she had been worried about old age or old wounds. It was her voice that did it.

And a really awful boot.

Go away go away go away I'm sorry I'm sorry]

[bloodvile]

[Blood didn't stop. He continued to pull on Wheatley's leg until every wire and artificial tendon snapped and it came off with a crunch. Metal bits went flying like confetti and Blood laughed like he just won a great prize: a beatin' stick.

He didn't waste any time with it, and the lashes began. They were violent and relentless--full swings starting from over his head and striking down on her back and whatever part of Wheatley he could hit. Getting beat with his own foot. He thought that was great.

The robot thing was making a whole lot of noise and the girl was not. Blood intended to silence both of them.]

[testgasm]

[Things Wheatley did not expect to happen today: this.

The good thing, he supposed, is that it didn't hurt once the limb was off. In fact, if not for the steady drip of hydraulic fluid, the occasional spark from a severed wire, and the fact that he was currently being bludgeoned with it, it was like the leg had never been there at all.

It was the whole "being bludgeoned" thing that hurt. Wheatley struggled under the boot to put himself on top of Vianca, knowing that his chassis could take the hits. That didn't make it any less painful, of course.]

Look, just--just--AGH--tell me what you want, I'll...anything, just don't--

[bloodvile]

[WHACK. WHACK. WHACK.

Blood continued his robot leg onslaught for a few more solid good whacks, not particularly caring the robot thing apparently wanted to play meat shield. Or metal shield. Or whatever. It was still satisfying to beat.

But he reached a point where begging and groveling was to be had, and that too was very satisfying.]

What I want? I want to know where Captain Falcon is so I can I kill him.

[WHACK.]

Or I'll kill you two instead!

[It wasn't a complete promise, but a glimmer of hope if nothing else.]