Fandom High Graduation Ceremony, Class of 2012, Early Saturday Evening (Part 2)

[bigdamnprincipal]

Were you all enjoying your graduation, children? Ingvar certainly hoped you were. It was so much fun, after all! Though... it could be a little more fun, couldn't it? It felt as if something was missing somehow. Something to really make it... fun.

Ingvar knew what it was.

And so, while the graduates were still on and around the stage, the earth began to rumble. Large black clouds of smoke pushed out of Ingvar's volcano and into the air, obscuring the sky and the moon. Soon, the air was covered in a thick black blanket of darkness.

The tune of the rumbling shifted.

Around the stage, clear protective walls sprung up. This was not Fandom's first tango on graduation day, thank you. She knew how to take care of what was hers.

Unfortunately, Ingvar knew its mother well. Moments later, it began to rain: a thick downpour of familiar plastic poppets in varying levels of creepiness, but also nice, brown, fluffy ...red-eyed, sharp-clawed teddy bears. And leading the charge, teeth-first--

"DROP BEARS!"

[OCD is up! Have at it! Audience | Grads: Fight! | Grads: Hide! | Aftermath | OOC 1 | OOC 2]

Comments

Re: Graduates: FIGHT!

[onapalebicycle.livejournal.com]

Okay WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK that thing had giant teeth and it was coming right for her. Why hadn't she hid why hadn't she hid no time to hide right now fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck --

George was going to crouch and aim her baseball bat at that -- thing. The thing with teeth. And try to hit it before it landed on her. This ... would end well.

Re: Graduates: FIGHT!

[fh-creepies.livejournal.com]

In baseball, they would call that a bunt.

The Drop Bear just called it OW AHAKJHLKJH, and swayed for a second as she knocked it aside.

Then it tried scrabbling up her legs to EAT HER FACE AGAIN, as you do.

Re: Graduates: FIGHT!

[onapalebicycle.livejournal.com]

Shitshitshitshitshitshitshit okay it was still coming. See? This was where a better weapon would have helped.

Flailing and kicking and stumbling back were her first -- okay, they weren't technically moves. Those were more instinctive panicky motions that made her look like all her synapses forgot how to fire in synch. George was not Good at This.

What might actually help -- besides pinwheeling her arms so she didn't land flat on her ass -- would be choking up some on the bat and trying to smash the stupid fucker right in its teeth. Or brush it away. Keep the bat between those fucking teeth and her face, that was a start. Something?

Re: Graduates: FIGHT!

[fh-creepies.livejournal.com]

Something painful? Yes. Yes, it was.

In fact, if Drop Bears spoke English, the sound coming out of its mouth as it spat out two fangs would definitely be "THCUMBTHUCKING THUN OFFA MUMMATHUCKING THUUUUUCK!"

Perhaps the tone of the ROOOOOOWWWRRLLLL translated the general meaning, though.

One claw-filled paw went to its blood-dripping mouth, while the other flailed wildly at George.

Re: Graduates: FIGHT!

[onapalebicycle.livejournal.com]

"FUCK!" Okay, now the drop bears were pissing her off! Because she was kind of fucking bleeding here and these were nice r--- okay she didn't give a fuck about the robes but she had nice clothes on under them. And more importantly bleeding and that hurt.

In that case she was going to try kicking to get it off her leg and then smashing its head to -- you know, smash its head in.

Which was kind of gross and all but it was attacking her, okay?

Re: Graduates: FIGHT!

[fh-creepies.livejournal.com]

Well, the kicking only half worked -- that free paw clung on tightly to anything it could cling to instead of flailing, now, so it ended up swinging from the hem of her robe.

On the other paw, the smashing was a rousing success.

So, um. Sorry about the blood and brains all over your shoes, George?

Re: Graduates: FIGHT!

[onapalebicycle.livejournal.com]

Ugh. On the one hand, fucking gross.

On the other, this was a disturbingly familiar sensation. It wasn't like she hadn't gotten blood, brains and intestines out of just about every article of clothing she had since her death.

So she settled for a weary sort of "fucking seriously?" before dropping the bat and feeling vaguely guilty.

Well, the drop bear looked cute again, now that it was dead.

(I forgot to say thank you, so ... thank you!)