the_campus | ANNOUNCEMENT 002

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ANNOUNCEMENT 002

[Wherever you are, whatever you're doing, you will hear the loud screeching of a microphone through the speakers before it dies down. Not long after, a familiar husky voice blares through said speakers.

Although her tone is somewhat pleasant, she manages to keep her authoritative tone as well.]

Good afternoon. [There's a brief pause.] You've all been quite busy, haven't you? It's, hm...interesting to watch, to say the least. But do keep the property damage to a minimum, will you? It's awfully rude to smash people's property on arrival, don't you think?

[Despite that warning, she manages a soft (if a bit ominous) chuckle.]

That being said, I hope you're all well rested. A good rest means a good grade, after all~.

[There's another burst of feedback before the announcement comes to an end.]

---
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[Vulpes is used to being feared and respected... no one would have had the guts to grab him that way or make such threats. ~~Not counting Boone, of course~~. Very displeased with this development, he presses the jagged ends of the broken bottle lightly against Miguel's abdomen.]

You should let go.

[He isn't unaware that this broken bit of bottle is currently his only weapon, and that this profligate has a size advantage. Still, he isn't about to back away like a coward.]

[Miguel stops momentarily; raising a brow. Suddenly he can feel the jagged edges of his broken bottle lightly pressing against the skin of his bare torso... and he smirks.]

[The taller man doesn't falter in his grip of Vulpes' hood, though his tone is suddenly slightly less angry and more amused as he speaks.] Heh....

...Alright, fine. I've already had confessions today; no need to dirty my clean slate with some self-righteous idiota's blood. I'll let go...

-But you'll be apologizing to me first. [In his teen years, conversation would have ended the very moment Vulpes made that initial smart remark. But Miguel is old enough now to not immediately pull his fists from his pockets at any little insignificant jab that some holier-than-thou asshole takes at his pride. -Most of the time. His sister did an admirable job at taming him that way, all things considered... But this guy is REALLY testing what little scrap of patience he has... And Miguel has never been one to walk away from a fight.]

[He keeps the bottle pressed there firmly as Miguel speaks, then slowly grins at his demand for an apology. He would never apologize to such a corrupt wastrel, and has no fear about the possibility of a fight.]

Men do not apologize to dogs.

[Vulpes presses the bottle more roughly against Miguel, likely cutting into his skin slightly. This is the most interesting thing that's happened in days.]

Dogs? [Well that was the wrong thing to say.]

[There were very few insults that actually got to Miguel these days, but that just happens to be one of them. And that fucking smirk as he said it... Miguel hated that smirk more than anything. Seeing it only gets the larger man's blood boiling. For a long moment, Miguel does nothing but glare; still holding two fistfuls of Vulpes' hood, even as sharp glass begins cutting into his skin... and then the drunkard is back to grinning himself, as a thought comes to mind.] So I'm a dog, eh?

[The Spaniard suddenly leans in closely; the heavy sent of alcohol on his breath as he speaks.] Hnh.... Maybe I should show you what a true 'dog' I can be, eh puto...?

[With that said, Miguel presses the flat of his tongue against Vulpes' jaw-bone and crudely liiicks up the side of the other man's face. He is supposedly a "dog", after all.]

[Vulpes waits patiently to see what the profligate will do, expecting him to release his hold on the hood and attempt to land a punch on his face. He is already prepared to duck out of the way and possibly go through with gutting the man, that it until he feels a tongue dragging over his face. Startled by this highly unusual tactic, and more than a little disgusted, he tries to jerk backwards. His focus wanders from the bottle in his hand, for the moment unaware that it's no longer pressing against Miguel's skin.]

Some dogs deserve to be put down more than others. Disgusting-

[And still he uses that word again. Miguel lets out a hearty laugh as he continues to keep the man close. -Not a pleasant laugh, but the kind of laugh he gives when he's about to do something very violent.]

[-And that's exactly what he does.]

[Without warning, Miguel suddenly cracks his forehead against Vulpes' own; catching the other man with one of his notoriously vicious headbutts. Only then does he release the other man; letting him reel backwards.] Hahaha...

[Grinning smugly.] Let the records show that I gave you fair warning.

Edited 2013-06-30 16:50 (UTC)

[Despite the quality of that laugh, Vulpes doesn't make much of it... which turns out to be quite the mistake. Pretty soon he's stumbling back, clutching at his head when it explodes with pain. For a little while he's seeing stars and isn't in any shape to retaliate.]

[With a groan, Vulpes forces himself to see past the pain in his head as he raises his fists. That was an underhanded tactic, but he won't let it decide anything.]

Men fight with their fists, coward.

Tch.... [Miguel smirks.] What do your 'honorable ethics' mean to me? It seems you've already decided that I'm a dog, so I'm merely playing my part.

-But, if you insist... I'll let you get a taste of my fist instead. [Drunkenly swaggering in place, Miguel doesn't bother with any kind of fighting stance. He merely holds his hands out now, in a very 'come at me bro' fashion.] Make your move.

Vamos allá!

No, perhaps I was mistaken. You're less than a dog... you have the ability to reason like a man, but voluntarily choose to behave as a beast.

[Vulpes studies his opponent as he sways along with his complete lack of form. It almost doesn't seem worth his time.]

If you insist.

[His own form has been perfected from a lifetime of hard training within the Legion. Although his head is still pounding, Vulpes forces himself to fall into that fighting stance before darting forward, aiming a right hook to Miguel's chin.]

['Feh. Miguel has been called many things throughout his life. As a boy, he would most often hear "the black sheep". Eventually he was known as a stubborn jackass, a dirty dog, a lone wolf, a raging bull... hell. He's beginning to wonder just which animal suits him best. Despite whatever the answer may be, one thing remains clear; if Miguel is anything to anyone, right now... it's a wild beast of a man.]

[So be it. Let them have their labels, then.]

[Miguel barely manages to dodge Vulpes' incoming fist- and to be honest, the success of the veer was mostly due to luck. When your vision blurs and distorts your view, it can be a bit difficult guessing just which fist you're supposed to dodge.]

Ha-! [But after the successful side-step, the burly man strikes back; aiming a powerful- albeit entirely unbalanced- blow to Vulpes' own face.]

[Er. One of Vulpes' faces anyway.]

[Vulpes may be named after an animal and wear one on his head, but he is very proud of his particular level of culture as compared to the Dissolute; those outside the control of Caesar's Legion. Beasts of men need to be tamed, and failing that, exterminated.]

[He gives a grunt of annoyance when his punch misses. Pulling back quickly, he doesn't even have to try and dodge Miguel's next hit- his fist simply zooms by the side of his head. In response, he levels the profligate a look of pure disgust. In fact, he's so disgusted that he lowers his fists and steps back. Such a fight is below him... it's actually an embarrassment to waste his time having a fistfight with a drunkard.]

This is pathetic. Come back when you can see straight.

-! [Miguel blinks as his fist makes contact with nothing but air; his entire body spinning slightly with the swing of his fist before tripping slightly over his own feet and stumbling against the nearest wall.]

[Miguel let's out a short grunt of pain and immediately pushes himself off from the wall's surface; a grimace on his features at the man's nonchalant attitude.]

Rrgh- Don't you dare walk away from me...!

[Miguel charges for Vulpes once more at full speed; this time going for an outright tackle.]

[If he wasn't so disgusted by the man's drunken display, he would probably have smirked when he stumbles into the wall. As it is, he simply continues to stare at Miguel with the same, unpleasant look.]

[In response to those words he takes another step back, his unworried stance only breaking when the taller man suddenly charges at him. Throwing his whole body rather than just a fist helps with his accuracy. Vulpes hisses in pain when his back slams to the hard floor, already aching head impacting with the linoleum in a way that leaves him dazed again. Furious now, he reaches his hands up when he's no longer seeing stars and wraps them around Miguel's neck, trying to strangle him.]

Edited 2013-07-02 03:08 (UTC)

[At first, the wild man chortles as he successfully mounts his opponent the way one might pounce upon a raging bull; grinning widely. The larger man's weight settles comfortably atop the smaller man's own. Ah, yes... this proximity is much better. Miguel's deep voice suddenly erupts into a fit of boisterous laughter once more as he contemplates pummeling the other man right then and there. This is the kind of bliss that the Spanish man is only ever capable of feeling in the midst of battle; the joy of dominating another opponent. The man knows damn well that the advantage has now been drastically shifted in his favor- and he's going to take his sweet time enjoying this moment...]

[-Or at least that was the plan, until Vulpes suddenly wraps his hands around Miguel's throat.]

Nghk-! [The drunkard gasps through the restriction on his throat; eyes widening. One hand reaches up to pry the other man's hand away from his neck, and he grits his teeth as he chokes. Before getting too light-headed, Miguel suddenly takes action; abruptly giving Vulpes an open-handed MANLY SLAP across the face.]

[Vulpes has been too well-trained to allow a disadvantageous shift in his opponent's favor to cause him to give up. Whatever avenues of resistance are available, he knows to seek out... and t his time, strangulation happened to be the most readily available option considering how he's otherwise trapped beneath Miguel's greater bulk.]

[His eyes darken with deadly focus as he squeezes the degenerate's neck with as much focus and strength he can muster considering the horrible ache in his head. He can hear his opponent gasp, and only tightens his grip in response. victory seems within reach, when suddenly a new burst of pain lights up the side of his face. That in itself might not be so terrible if it didn't also send his head back into the floor again. Dazed yet again, his grip on Miguel's neck slackens. Is the hallway spinning? How inconvenient.]

[Miguel gasps for breath as the grip on his throat losens; face slightly red as he sucks air into his lungs. If he wasn't already feeling woozy and light-headed before, the man certainly was now.]

[Gripping the front of Vulpes' uniform, Miguel raises the man up; voice growling from deep within his throat.]

You... [Cough] son of... a.... [Miguel's hands shake slightly before losing their grip altogether.]

[Finally, after several sleepless nights, multiple fights, binge drinking, and strangulation, Miguel's tired body seems to have reached it's threshold for abuse and general neglect at the moment. His eyes flutter momentarily before closing altogether, and the large man suddenly collapses.]

[This is officially the first time he's ever been knocked out without ever really being hit. Though it's definitely not the first time he has ever passed out in a less-than-favorable position.]

[The world tilts dangerously when Miguel raises his him by the grip on his uniform, and focusing on the matter at hand is nearly impossible. Vulpes blinks, squinting at the drunk profligate above him.]

[And then, before he knows it, the man is passed out on top of him. The legionary tries to push him off a few times, but the efforts only add to his own dizziness and nausea. In fact, during one more such attempt, the world slowly goes black and he too falls back, unconscious.]

[Hopefully Vulpes enjoys sleeping beneath nearly 270 pounds of muscle. It takes quite some time before Miguel begins to stir, several hours later.]

[Furrowing his brow, the man shifts his weight; subconsciously registering the fact that there is someone beneath him. Maybe he should move. Whoever the unfortunate woman is this time, she would no doubt appreciate having the ability to breathe without being restricted by Miguel's crushing weight. The Spaniard gives a low grumble of a groan from within his throat; slowly raising himself up a quarter of an inch before uselessly collapsing back down again. Urgh... Miguel hasn't even opened his eyes up yet and his head is killing him.]

[Dreading the act but following through regardless, Miguel slowly cracks his eyes open; lifting his head just enough to peer at the person below him. He blinks to focus his eyes, and eventually the face of.... a man... comes into view.]

....

[Wait....]

Edited 2013-07-02 17:55 (UTC)

[For awhile he's delightfully oblivious to the weight of the muscular man on top of him, but nothing can keep him asleep when Miguel raises himself up, only to fall back down on him. Vulpes' eyes shoot open as he lets out a startled gasp, then groans when the pain from his headache assaults him once more. Gritting his teeth, Vulpes presses a hand to Miguel's face and tries to shove it as far away from himself as possible.]

Get. Off.

[He's too unfocused to try strangling the profligate again, but by Mars is he tempted. Damn wastrel probably gave him a concussion.]

[Before he can even fully connect with reality again, the random man beneath him smushes Miguel's face with a hand and pushes him away. Miguel doesn't struggle against the action though he does swat Vulpes' hand away; moving on his own to raise himself up and roll over onto the floor.]

[This is a mistake however, as once he's on his back, the glaring lights from up above do nothing to soothe his splitting headache. He sits up in place; holding his throbbing head with a sharp curse. Miguel grumbles;]

Dios mio...

[He peers around through squinted eyes; trying to get a feel for his surroundings. Only now does it fully dawn on Miguel that he has no idea where he is- and can barely remember how he got into this situation. The Spaniard looks over at Vulpes with an expression of pure confusion.]

....

...'The Hell are you? [Yes, he has forgotten their encounter almost entirely.]

[Vulpes takes a few slow, deep breaths once Miguel rolls off of him, then rubs at the tender spots on his head. The lights aren't helping the situation at all, but he's no stranger to painful blows to the head. It'll pass eventually.]

[He grabs his fox hood, which had fallen off during the fight, before slowly boosting himself up on his forearms. The question earns Miguel an unimpressed scowl- or maybe that's just how he looks at everyone.]

Perhaps if you had not poisoned yourself with that drink, you would recall.

[How anyone could indulge in such self-destructive behavior is beyond him. The world doesn't realize how lucky it is to have people like Caesar who are able to bring back civilization in a time of such crisis.]

[The minute Vulpes grabs for his hood, Miguel squints; rubbing at his temple as a flash of their encounter runs through his mind.] Hnh...

Oh yeah... I remember something about an annoying woodland creature...

[A shrug.] Not my fault that the man beneath it happened to be far more forgettable.

[Lazily scratching at his messy hair, the Spaniard goes to slowly rise up to his feet; looking around...]

[And then suddenly, he blinks. Shit.... Was he really passed out on top of another man in public?? How many people must have walked by just then...? Christ; what if a member of his family were to see him in such a position..? ...Well, he doubts that their disappointment in him could grow any larger than it has been for a long time anyway...]

[But the question remains-]

...Why am I in a school?

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