Captain Falcon (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
raced_god) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
smash_logs2009-06-10 05:49 pm
raced_god) wrote in smash_logs2009-06-10 05:49 pm
Entry tags:
(no subject)
Who: Falcon, Black Shadow
What: I dunno some kind of dramatic reveal and subsequent shit-flipping.
When: Thursday, June 11th, evening.
Where: Black Shadow's Classroom/OfficeI am not actually sure what he has.
Rating: Let's give it a high PG-13 for fighting and cursing.
Falcon had to admit he'd never been on the parent side of a parent-teacher conference before. Then again, he hadn't actually been a parent until now. But he'd been on the teacher side enough to know how these things went. So why was he so uncomfortable?
Maybe it was the fact that this demolitions teacher genuinely creeped him out. At first, Falcon had written him off as "weird fan", one of many that he'd unfortunately accumulated over the years. But this guy. This guy was different. Falcon wasn't sure why, but Mr. Dolack gave him a huge case of the heebie-jeebies. It was for that reason that he'd taken to observing the class--if only to make sure Ionia was safe.
Creepy, yes. A threat? Probably not.
So when the demolitions teacher had told Falcon that he was concerned about Ionia's performance, well, it was his responsibility as a parent to go see what all that was about. It...didn't make sense to him. Maybe it was because Dolack was new and didn't really understand her little invincibility complex. That had to be it. The Captain was sure some discussion could clear it right up and then he could get the hell out of that creepy guy's office. As reluctant as he felt, maybe there actually was a problem. And then what kind of father would he be if he ignored it?
He reached the door and knocked.
What: I dunno some kind of dramatic reveal and subsequent shit-flipping.
When: Thursday, June 11th, evening.
Where: Black Shadow's Classroom/Office
Rating: Let's give it a high PG-13 for fighting and cursing.
Falcon had to admit he'd never been on the parent side of a parent-teacher conference before. Then again, he hadn't actually been a parent until now. But he'd been on the teacher side enough to know how these things went. So why was he so uncomfortable?
Maybe it was the fact that this demolitions teacher genuinely creeped him out. At first, Falcon had written him off as "weird fan", one of many that he'd unfortunately accumulated over the years. But this guy. This guy was different. Falcon wasn't sure why, but Mr. Dolack gave him a huge case of the heebie-jeebies. It was for that reason that he'd taken to observing the class--if only to make sure Ionia was safe.
Creepy, yes. A threat? Probably not.
So when the demolitions teacher had told Falcon that he was concerned about Ionia's performance, well, it was his responsibility as a parent to go see what all that was about. It...didn't make sense to him. Maybe it was because Dolack was new and didn't really understand her little invincibility complex. That had to be it. The Captain was sure some discussion could clear it right up and then he could get the hell out of that creepy guy's office. As reluctant as he felt, maybe there actually was a problem. And then what kind of father would he be if he ignored it?
He reached the door and knocked.
no subject
Oh, how nice it was to be wrecking an office that wasn't his.Falcon had just barely leapt forward when he found himself slammed into the office floor, an involuntary grunt escaping him as he connected with the cold tile. His next immediate instinct was to spin on his palms, kicking outward as he brought himself back to his feet and trying to ignore the pain that came with...well, being clothes-lined into the ground.
He dashed behind the desk in an effort to keep distance between them while simultaneously trying to keep a mode of escape nearby. Of course, there was the part where his getup maneuver loosened his gun in his belt, and, seeing as it had already been put back hastily and not very securely. The next thing he heard was a metallic clatter as the gun fell to the floor, the swift motion to the other side of the room enough to dislodge it from its holster.
Well, that was probably not good. He sidestepped the desk and dove forward, hand outstretched in an attempt to reach it.