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Post by Leda on Jul 6, 2009 12:02:45 GMT -5
 Normally, stepping away from a programming marathon would be a relief. Even if it was one of Snively's greater strengths, it still got exhaustive after a while. This particular session had been going on for three hours, after his benevolent uncle decided that it needed to be recoded to heighten alertness, but that he didn't want to do it himself. Which naturally meant his dear nephew would be stuck with the job. And yet, being summoned by the deep bellow of Robotnik's cavernous throat made hours upon hours of meticulous coding seem like a dream vacation. No matter how much he detested to admit so, Snively really did fear the man. Being nearly eaten does that to a person. While he wanted to let his heavy feet take as much time as they needed to make it to his destination, Snively knew only too well what kind of consequences came for dawdling, and the petite overlander scrambled to the main control room just as quickly as his stubby legs would carry him. "Y-Yes, Dr. Robotnik, Sir?" A cold sweat had already begun to prick at his forehead as he wondered what kind of mood the good doctor would be in today. Trying not to imagine the worst, his eyes strayed upward to the largest set of monitors. Apparently the rotund one was studying old security footage again. |
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Post by DB on Jul 6, 2009 12:09:55 GMT -5
 Robotnik didn't bother to draw his gaze from the tapes. He didn't need to, anyway. He already knew from experience that his simpering little nephew was probably standing besides his throne, wringing his hands, sweating buckets, and making pathetic little whimpering sounds. That's how it always was, and it wasn't something he needed to bother a glance for. "I have a question for you, Snivlay," he pronounced, his voice betraying, at the moment, no obvious motives or thoughts, but simply drifting as smoothly as black ice. |
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Post by Leda on Jul 6, 2009 12:11:32 GMT -5
"..." He tried to answer, he honestly did, but his throat had suddenly dried up like a desert. Robotnik having questions for him usually meant there was hell to pay. With great effort, he managed to rasp, " Yes, sir?" |
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Post by DB on Jul 6, 2009 12:14:06 GMT -5
The tyrant rubbed his clasped hands together in thought, his eyes still not leaving the screens before him. "How long, on foot, do you suppose it'd take to get from here to Mercia?" |
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Post by Leda on Jul 6, 2009 12:18:36 GMT -5
"Mercia?" the considerably smaller man echoed in genuine surprise. This... was definitely not the topic he'd expected. "W-Well... Depending on traveling speed, I'd guess the average time on-foot would be..." He shrugged. "Several weeks?" |
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Post by DB on Jul 6, 2009 12:19:58 GMT -5
"And if that foot speed was that of a certain rodent...?" |
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Post by Leda on Jul 6, 2009 12:21:14 GMT -5
Snively's nose wrinkled. And with a nose like that, you know it's srs bizniz. "The hedgehog could probably clear that distance in a day, if he really wanted to." |
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Post by DB on Jul 6, 2009 12:22:39 GMT -5
"Tell me what you see, Snivlay," he replied, giving a small nod to the screen as he did so. |
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Post by Leda on Jul 6, 2009 12:37:01 GMT -5
Turning his attention to the monitors, the footage currently showed a very short loop of surveillance film. It was only a second or two, and very tightly zoomed in, so much so that the image had become a little blurry. It could've easily been missed by someone watching the original, uncut footage by itself, but when it was really examined, that fleeting flash of colour was quite clear. "That would be Princess Sally, sir." |
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Post by DB on Jul 6, 2009 12:49:44 GMT -5
"And," he began, "do you know where this footage was taken?" |
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Post by Leda on Jul 6, 2009 13:00:14 GMT -5
(1 = he gets it, 2 = he's too freaked out to connect the dots) [dice=2] While he didn't exactly recognize anything in particular about the location (especially with such a tight zoom), it wasn't hard to see where Robotnik was going with this. "Mercia..." [rand=486886813150113848380588571474762275094278892912422430325570563248] |
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Post by DB on Jul 6, 2009 14:13:31 GMT -5
"Precisely," he replied, the word sounding like a hollow mechanical hiss. He paused, now deciding his nephew to be worth his attention as his chair swiveled away from the screens. "Snivlay, are there any Shredders left in storage?" |
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Post by Leda on Jul 6, 2009 14:26:10 GMT -5
Realizing further what he was getting at, a wide, twisted smile spread across the assistant's face. Sprinting to the nearest keyboard, Snively replied a moment later, "There seems to be a damaged shredder stored in the large-scale storage hanger in quadrant 2 of area 16. Records show that it could be repaired to optimal functionality in four hours." |
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Post by DB on Jul 6, 2009 14:30:32 GMT -5
"Hmm", the tyrant hummed, rubbing one of his chin s, "I suppose that would do, yes. Snivlay, have it repaired and deployed immediately. Bring two squads of swatbots along with other defoliant devices." He paused, and then as an afterthought flippantly waved a hand. "Bring Metal Sonic along too." |
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Post by Leda on Jul 6, 2009 14:55:17 GMT -5
"Yes, sir!" The anxiety of just moments ago long since forgotten, Snively snickered deviously as he set forth the commands to start repairs. This was going to be good. No, this was going to be fantastic. |
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