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Not Ready for a Real DateSerah's hair worked its way up my nose. Uninvited, and definitely unwelcome. I wrinkled my nose, fighting back a sneeze. What shampoo did she use? Something to do with fruit and a long price tag.
Immobilized as I was, the twitch was doubly maddening. I tightened my fingers in hers, feeling the rough fabric of our gloves hold a cloth-y conversation. Serah sighed contentedly and leaned on my shoulder. I took the opportunity to move my head.
Too much. The rhythm of her breathing, previously steadier than the thrum of the bus, spiked and fell. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," I lied. I couldn't exactly tell her. Girls were skittish in the first place.
Panic shot up my arm as her hand moved, loosening her fingers from the weave with mine. I held on, too tightly, and she laughed at me. But she didn't let go.
My nose wept in silent gratitude as she sat up, l
TF2 The Animated Series: Ep 2EXT. BLU BASE FIELD - DAY
A shoddy track has been laid out in the dirt. Scout runs, passing childish obstacles with ease. He now has a backpack for keeping the bat in, and manages to move just as easily with it as he might without.
When he passes the finish mark, Soldier holds up a stopwatch.
You kiddin'? That's gotta be a world record!
Soldier folds his arms and imitates a wall, looking away. Freeze-frame, monochrome. SOLDIER caption and halfborder swing in. Hold for a beat, and then swing caption and halfborder back out, restore colour, and resume motion.
There is no such thing as a record for running fast.
Is so. I'm proof.
He hits his own chest, grinning like a demon. Freeze-frame, monochrome, swing in SCOUT caption and halfborder. Hold for a beat, and then swing caption and halfborder back out, restore colour, and resume motion.
Livin' legend, right he
Jiggery PokeryThey had called him mad, but he had done it. And perhaps it was just a teensy bit mad, who could really say for certain? There were too many variables to calculate it to within a polite decimal place. Assuming that anyone had thought to decimalise madness, of course, in which case, it would only be polite if someone had bothered in the first place.
The second place was what the Medic was interested in at that moment, and that place was standing on the cracked tiles of his laboratory floor, giddy as a treefrog.
It was an ingenious plan, and he was halfway through its beautiful execution. It hadn't taken much in the way of chemical components. Half a pint of blood extracted from a frozen theropod, acquired through eBay after a late night and four bottles of hard liquor.
He scratched his chin, wondering if the liquor ought to be counted as chemical components.
Half, always half. Halfway there, half a pint of Tyrannosaurus r
ReflectionsVal's pursuit led him to the foul beast's domain. The hollowed-out cavern reeked of blood and rancid meat. The dim light he had seen as he charged through the tunnel after the monster could now be identified: torches. Rows of mysteriously lit torches lined the walls of the huge cave. At its center was a substantially large labyrinth of mirrors.
He spotted the beast entering.
He spun his silver broadsword in his hand and hurried in behind it.
His garb was a simple blue and white crusader's leather with thick armored pads and reinforcing steel studs. Lightweight and flexible, but quite effective defense against blunt blows and – in a pinch – the slashing claws of the unholy spawn of the earth. All monster-hunters wore a similar variety in Val's experience. It would serve him well in these close quarters of the mirrored maze.
Right, left, forward, left, right he turned, always catching a glimpse of the beast's tail as he wove his way through the corridors. Every so often he sp
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