smash_logs | I'll be there for you

Entry tags:

I'll be there for you

Who: EV ERY ONE
What: Graduation. Prom.
When: The evening of May 31st.
Where: The Stadium.
Warnings: WHO KNOWS

One might find the stadium a little hot and humid for those used to a spring graduation ceremony. This fine evening the Academy is experiencing its first hints of summer, a warm breeze providing relief to those who would sit on the stadium floor, which had been rearranged into a platform overlooking neat rows of chairs meant to seat the gathered crowd of faculty and students. Towards the other end of the complex was the arrangement for the prom that was to follow. Food and drink, chairs and tables, each with a floral centerpiece, and, of course, a dance floor.

title or description

Before everyone could get their party on, however, there was the main event of the evening. From his place at the podium, Master Hand watched students and staff alike find their way into the stadium. With the recent robot shenanigans, there seemed to be tensions in need of dispelling. If the Headmaster knew one thing, however, it was that some silly city antics were not going to ruin this esteemed event. Not tonight. Not if he could help it.

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HEY DUDES! Here's how stuff is going to work. We kick off the log with GRADUATION. This part of the log will be divided into separate threads. I'll post them all at once, so feel free to hop around, mingle, post whenever, wherever.

HOWEVER, once the PROM starts, it will be up to you guys to post your own threads. Please check out last year's log if you'd like an idea of how this works. Everything after the thread titled "DISMISSAL" (I will post that in a bit, so don't post prom threads until I have that up!) will be considered prom, though don't let that stop you from continuing to post in the graduation section.

Please label all your threads appropriately! (Examples: "SHENANIGANS AT THE FOOD TABLE", "DANCE-OFF", "THE PUNCH IS SPIKED", "BOTHER X" In general, a location + what is going on in the thread is the way to go. Obviously, more than one thread can take place at the same location.   Linking back and forth when and if you thread hop is very much appreciated. If things start to look a bit laggy, we'll bump to the next page. Most importantly, HAVE FUN, and let a mod know about any problems or concerns you might have!

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Contrary to the reference image used, Samus wasn't walking around tonight with a purse. She had only a few essentials she needed; that being her gun which was strapped securely to her thigh under her dress, and her key ring which was securely hanging off of that, jingling somewhat ominously with every other step.

Or at least it was secure until a metal ring had enough of the ominously jingling shit and broke. A single important key clattered to the ground. It was a little unconventional in shape, but Mondo would likely recognize why.

Mondo happened to be in the vicinity of this accident when a high-pitched metal chink pushed his attention to the floor. A shiny silver object that could fit in the palm of your hand had been tragically severed from the person of a woman in a blue dress with long blonde hair. ~~She had a hot ass that could rival Ishimaru's and spent the rest of the night staring at it instead of helping her~~ His first instinct was to get closer and pick it up so he could return it to her safe and sound. Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be a flat, dated-looking ignition key. Not just any old key. ~~And then he stole it. Finders keepers Samoose weepers~~

He'd better give it back to her. It would be pretty unfortunate if she were left stranded without a ride home. Mondo chased after her leaving form, calling out, "Oi! You, in the blue dress! You dropped something."

Samus could have easily gotten a ride home in the Blue Falcon, but riding her bike was a matter of pride and independence. Smash Academy was a place of cruel irony; the moment she thought it would be fine to leave it alone in the parking lot for a night until she could get a spare key would be the night it'd get horribly vandalized, or get sliced in half by a cyborg ninja, or grown sentience or something weird like that.

"...?" She half-spun on her heel, attention drawn to what was that on his head w--oh right that kid with the weird hair style.

Samus briefly hefted the side of her dress and checked her leg, noting her gun was where it should be but something was missing. My key...?

"Yes?" She looked expectantly at the student, hoping he indeed had what she was missing.

"Your bike key." The words Samus wanted to hear. He presented to her his hand, fingers unraveling to reveal what she had lost so she could take it back. "Hope you find a way to secure it better, 'cause that would be a pain to lose."

It's worth noting his slight distractedness. It's not every day you see a woman packing firearms under her dress like that, and it was kind of a shocker.

"It would." She agreed after a moment of silence--the obvious judgmental kind of silence as her eyes flitted up and down him before taking the key back. Mostly Samus took note of the fact he even recognized that ~~his hair was corn~~ was a key that belonged to ~~corn hair~~ a ~~corn~~ bike.

And his distractedness, for sure. It was either her legs or the thing between her legs, she concluded. The woman had no obvious qualms hefting the dress back up either way. With care and only a minor amount of fumbling, she ~~shoved the key in her cleavage~~ found a new keyring to secure it to.

"I'd hate to have to rely on someone else for a ride, even for just one night."

~~You got something to say about corn, lady?!~~ Whoever this lady was, she came across as, for lack of any better word, pretty badass. She seemed like someone he wouldn't want to mess with, even if he were okay with taking on girls, but he was already beginning to respect her, if not intimidate him a little with her clear scrutiny. He was already starting to suspect she thought little of his type. Fair enough.

"Yeah. And have to come back the next morning just to take it back. What a hassle..." Nonetheless, he just kept trucking on with casual conversation, not finding it difficult in the slightest. "So just out of curiosity, what do you ride?"

Which was good because Samus still struggled when it came to casual conversation and small talk. She'd made some minor improvements in that skill after five years of practice here at the Academy, but it didn't exactly come naturally to her. ~~Maybe if he cawed and chirped instead.~~

"A custom machine." Not unlike her ship. "A hunter-class cold superconducting generator with a G-Diffuser system."

Edited (I forgot a quote and wanted to change a sentenceeeee) 2013-06-12 09:20 (UTC)

"..."

That was the melodic sound of Mondo staring at her in unmitigated perplexity because what? He had no idea what just came out of her mouth. If Samus were catapulting this information in an attempt to land it safely into Mondo's mental register, it probably went so far up and over his head that it high-fived God on the way up and out.

"Huh? Superquacking jean-diddly what?" He's not very good at big words he doesn't understand. "What the hell? Are you trying to confuse me?"

She blinked, his response a very clear indication of what gear she shouldn't be shifting into right now.

"A motorcycle." Samus tried again, cold sarcasm coating every syllable. "It's the red one in the parking lot. It goes fast."

Out of the blue, Mondo brightened up and exclaimed, "THAT one?! Shit! I know the one! It's that really sleek futuristic bike with the long fork and low-rider style. So you're the owner." He wasn't sure what kind of an owner he was expecting- the inhabitants of this city were so variant that it could be anyone from a raccoon to a space alien. That might explain its exotic appearance. "Where'd you get it? Did you modify it yourself?"

Even if it wasn't very indicative on her stony face, her posture relaxed a little. Small talk was still hard, but this was progress. It a way she almost felt like she was talking with a version of Char, though he didn't seem so keen about riding her bike the first time they needed to.

Then again, those were... unpleasant circumstances. This kid sounded a lot more receptive about it, which was a nice change.

"Out of a junkyard, believe it or not. It took some time and patience but I got it cleaned up. It even hovers." Her voice eased a little. It was really her favorite pet project. Her mind was liable to wander with curiosity and a thirst for knowledge--from what part of that specie did she just pull off her windshield to the meaning of life itself. Her adoptive parents instilled much of this in her, so Samus needed something to keep her mentally stimulated.

"...You like bikes?"

He eagerly followed along with her story, showing raised eyebrows when he heard she picked it out of a junkyard, getting noticeably hooked when she told him it could hover. Naturally, though, when asked the question, his mind veered away to answer her.

"Of course I like bikes!" declared Mondo. "I was only the second leader of Japan's most feared and revered motorcycle gang! We were called the Crazy Diamonds. You either had be dumb as fuck or have guts of steel to mess with us. But either way you'd be stupid, 'cause not even steel can match up to Diamonds!"

It felt seriously weird to put it in the past tense, he idly thought to himself as he told Samus. This tempered his usual loud explanation to a less enthusiastically vociferous level. More quietly proud than excessively proud.

"My brother started it. He made it great, I kept it great."

A gang, huh? Ah, there was one key differential that Samus was not sure she could ever relate to; the camaraderie of a gang compared to her usual lone wolf preference. She could only imagine how tragically short lived a bike gang of hers could be.

Nevermind the inaccuracy he just brought to light which she was keen to focus on--that, while yes the hardness and crystal structure of a diamond was impressive, it still wasn't very resistant to crushing pressures and could easily be broken under a simple hammer and--

"Is your brother still around?"

His tone fell more somber. "...Nah. He's not here anymore. Died a couple years back." A little more than that, but Mondo's perspective felt different than reality.

Talking about how he died would be something else, he began to realize. Now that he wasn't trying to cover up a big secret, what would he tell people? Would the truth come out? It was such a foreign concept, to tell just anyone the real circumstances of his brother's death than the fake one he'd always spouted. It felt too weird to be natural and opened up feelings of insecurity again, the kneejerk kind that made him want to preserve the gang that... wasn't here anymore either. For now, he played it safe and didn't push on the topic any more unless prodded to.

"My condolences." She offered quietly. Yes that was definitely a stab in the 'awkward andor touchy conversational topic' territory. Despite his cool outward appearance, and her persistent curiosity, Samus didn't want to probe that somber tone much more. Not for just meeting the kid. She'd mentally file the tidbit away for later.

"Do you have a bike here?"

That somber mood melted away immediately at the topic swerve and the sun came back up, like he'd forgotten entirely. "Oh, yeah! It was all banged up when I got here, so I've been spending some of my free time working on it. It's all fixed up and ready to ride now, though."

There was a soft hum from the back of her throat, like a muted purr. His machine probably paled in comparison technology-wise to hers, nothing worth her getting excited or interested about.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to see it sometime." But there was knowledge to be gained, she felt, in his experiences. There was something especially pleasing seeing someone craft something of their own in the world by their own hands.

"Sure! I'd be glad to show it to ya," he proclaimed with a thumbs-up and a grin. Mondo hadn't built the thing from the ground-up, and while he possessed some skill with motorcycle maintenance, he wasn't the most mechanically inclined person out there, but boredom and a bunch of troubled thoughts chasing after you will push you to want to do something with your hands sometimes, even if the repairs take a ~~super~~ higher ~~school~~ level of skill to accomplish. That, and a desperate need to go out riding again after you've been trapped inside a gloomy murder school. "The engine sounds even better than when I got it!"

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I'll be there for you

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making up bike mumbo jumbo tech stuff aw yeaaaah

I'll roll with that

vroom vroom rollin rollin

7 days later I actually tag go me (don't be me)

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