Blood Falcon (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
bloodvile) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
smashacademy2014-09-27 11:19 pm
bloodvile) wrote in smashacademy2014-09-27 11:19 pm
BLOOD FOR BLOOD FALCON [video]
[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 changeand 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!
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
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!
no subject
The reploid acknowledged Wheatley with wordless nod. He wasn't going to push the guy's comfort any further if he wanted to hold onto her. From the looks of it... well, she needed it. Probably moreso than the cold, metal arms that Zero could've provided.]
...Then I'll accompany you to the school gates.
[Just to be safe.
After a small pause, Zero realized he'd spent more time questioning what this freckled person was, rather than who.]
What's your name?
no subject
I'm, ah. It's Wheatley.
no subject
[There was a pause after he repeated the name, as though letting it sink into his memory.]
...You did well.