The Great Excitebike Migration: As Narrated by Sir David Attenborough

[gunplay]

Who: Ocelot and ANYONE
What: EXCITEBIKES
Where: Campus hallways.
When: Dec. 20
Warnings: Motocross violence..? And swearing.

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[Seeking warmer dirt tracks free of ice to do sick tricks on, the annual Excitebike migration cuts a detour through the vast open hallways of the campus this year. The herd of tiny blocky motocross racers travels in close groups so as to avoid both predators and being lapped by the leader. Once they're on the move, there is very little that can stop them until they reach a finish line.]

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[Naturally, Ocelot is out on patrol, spinning his guns, when he hears the buzzing of many tiny engines. But it is too late-- there is nowhere to run.]

[He barely has time to scream before they hit him. And when they're gone around the corner and the dust settles, Ocelot is left sprawled on the ground, his Spetsnaz uniform covered in little tire tracks. Déjà vu.]

...Son of a bitch...

Comments

[gunplay]

[Ocelot feels terribly impotent now. It's very rare that he's without a working gun. At least Snake's shaking snaps him out of his pouting.]

[He puts the useless gun in its holster. There's other things to fret over, like how the racers left dirty tire tracks all over him. He tries to scrub at the marks on his face with his hands.]

...Only a little bit. [He has two more revolvers at his dorm, and a unit of armed soldiers at his call. Whom will be ordered to shoot all motocross racers on sight next time he meets them. He turns to look Snake over, noting that he's packing his own heat this time.]

It looks like you have the advantage for now, Snake.

[A pity. He wouldn't mind being on equal footing with him... if it meant they could fight hand-to-hand.]

[loveisbloominginmypants]

[Snake waits until he's relatively certain Ocelot can support himself. He's never imagined that he'd actually help the guy. Even in smaller ways, Snake wonders if the academy's made him turn a little soft. But he considers people like Samus and Eli and realises that there's a difference between minute respect and being soft.

Ocelot's words spur him to settle his right hand about where he's hiding his gun. Oh so that's what he meat by 'packing heat'...]

Only a little bit. [He says with a crooked smile. Well, almost a smile.] Don't worry; I'm sure in a couple days you'll feel like a man again - instead of a race track.

[Ha. Ha.]