|2012-09-18, 00:00||Link #162|
ARCAM Spriggan agent
Here's part 2 for the Academy Mode-inspired story. Maybe more would come.
Spoiler for Story:
Spoiler for Story Part 2:
Last edited by Yu Ominae; 2012-09-19 at 19:48.
|2012-09-20, 03:58||Link #167|
ARCAM Spriggan agent
Sorry Tak. I'll have to crush your hopes and dreams. Although I have this other story...
For starters, here's the link to the first few snippets to the SRW-style story I'm been cooking up for a while.
I must inform you that the next snippet has a reference to another game franchise. That is all. Oh well, can't fit the robot action yet. Dangit! I promise it'll really come later.
Spoiler for SRW-based story:
Spoiler for Part 2:
Spoiler for Part 3:
Spoiler for Part 4:
I'll continue with the Academy Mode story later.
|2012-11-15, 11:09||Link #172|
Join Date: Oct 2010
"What? All this state-of-the-art military hardware and all you do is peep in on girls like common voyeurs?"
"Thats pretty nice coming from someone who does Yuri scenes on her own concert." Ben said, not taking his eyes off the road.
Her head whipped back to face him, "Yuri?! Why-" He spared a glance from the road to her as she stammered. She was caught by surprise by his blatant accusation, her face, at first blushing fiercely, contorted to a scowl while he looked at her. Ben straightened his face, sensing he might have let slip a smirk. "Look," she started again as she crossed her arms, "That's purely professional and it's all holograms and mirrors anyway. It's just all part of the script for the two bunnies to both be played by me, it's important."
"Why? So you can french kiss yourself?"
Sheryl cast her gaze back to the road, nose cast upward, "You're completely missing the point, it's a metaphor for two sides of the same personality."
"I get that," Ben replied, "But you know it's a little hard for people to appreciate the message when everyone is too distracted by the Sheryl on Sheryl foreplay. I mean, seriously, how do you come up with this?"
Sheryl shrugged, her tone softened, "Some of it actually wasn't my idea."
"Ah, and there's the truth," Ben said, sparing another glance to her, noticing her head was tilted down now, "It's all just pure marketing."
"It is marketing," Sheryl said as she directed her voice at him, and it carried in the relatively small cabin, "I'm a professional entertainer, and I won't get anywhere if I don't keep a finger on the galaxy's pulse to see what people like."
"All that and all you've figured out is the age-old adage that sex sells. How far are you willing to go with that? Are you going to keep pushing that line? Just another step further in the next concert? The next music vid? You know I've seen a lot of them, and you already have some stuff that borders on a full-blown striptease."
The tone of her voice hinted at another blush. "I never show everything."
"Not yet anyway, just copious amounts of skin, your ass, and how much lust you seem to have for yourself," Ben let that sink in a moment before he went on, "Some professional you are with that high class sense of morality."
She was silent for a long moment though Ben felt his nerves suddenly go on edge. This was not a silence of remorse, but a silence of rage. "And what about you?" she asked him coldly, "I'm guessing by that Valkyrie and the look in your eyes that you're a professional soldier, and that means what you do is a lot of killing."
Ben slammed the brakes, causing the Camaro to shudder and wheels to stutter while the anti-lock brakes struggled to keep traction. Ben fiercely whipped his head around to face Sheryl as she straightened herself out from the sudden stop. Ben silently glared at her, somewhat angry being accused of being a heartless killer. Sheryl, although was slightly surprised by Ben's reaction did not back down from his glare.
Ben narrowed his eyes at her. He refused to be the first to back down, but he could read in her eyes that she was just as stubborn. Fortunately there was an out. "We're here," Ben said.
"What?" Sheryl broke the stare to look around. The entrance to her hotel was barely half a block further down the street. "You're going to let me off here?"
"There could be paparazzi," Ben said, finding it a reasonable excuse, "Do you want people to see you coming back to your hotel late at night in a strange man's car?"
Sheryl tapped her chin a moment in thought. "No, I suppose not," she pulled down the visor mirror and checked her hair in the dim streetlights before she at last unbuckled, opened the door and stepped out of the car, Ben watching her the entire time, closely, and with a frown. Despite the entire tone of the conversation, Sheryl nevertheless stuck her head in under the doorway to give him one of her unusually bright smiles, "Thanks for driving me back, Ben."
Ben fought a quick mental battle to keep that smile from disarming his frown. "Sure," he said flatly. With his answer she closed the door, then moved quickly to the sidewalk while Ben made his departure.