A sonic fic!! After playing brawl, I know have a newfound respect for Sonic. The blue guy is fast. I'm currently mapping out a plot for this story, but here is, at least, a quick prologue to catch your interest.
High atop the industrial jungle of New York city, a blue hedgehog teetered over the edge of a sky scraper. His toes faced outward, which left nothing but his heals to keep a balance. Hundreds of feet below, the mid-morning traffic matched the coined expression, "like little ants," perfectly. Likewise, how many ants die, the slightest mistake would leave him splattered in the ground. Yet, Sonic gave a bad ass smirk.
Quick was his trick.
With one last half breath, unwilling to waste another second, he planted a foot parallel to the monstrous structure. And he zipped off, beating gravity at it's own game. Leaving a blur of blue behind.
Two seconds was all it took. He felt his eyes dry from the air current, wind starting to tug at his cheeks, and gravity slowly settling in. At the last moment, he kicked off the wall and found a tent for safe landing. His body slid off the tent, and his shoes clacked on the concrete.
Only two seconds, he rubbed his eyes, two seconds of being alive again. He preformed one of the greatest feats that man could only perceive, and still felt a tinge of disappointment. The daredevil inside of him was beginning to starve. With a heavy sigh, he tucked the thought away.
"Aye. Move it already."
Oh-yeah. Sonic sped out of the road as a taxi cab flew past. He was in a city. At such high altitudes, Sonic almost forgot how noisy traffic was. New York streets were really nothing to be proud of. Wrappers littered about as common as rain. And many people, nearly as filthy as the street itself, lingered on benches.
The only slightly welcome sight was a skinny man selling hot-dogs. Food sounded good about now. A crinkled newspaper fluttered by his feet, letting his vivid green eyes pour over it.. The headline, in dark bold, read: "Sega Sales Plummet."
Instant anger burned to the pit of his stomach. It continued, "Once a fierce competitor of Nintendo, Sega's poor strategies had crashed it's console market since 1998... is now failing as a 3rd party developer... last effort to preserve Sonic the hedgehog, Sega's famous mascot, they have consoled Nintendo to help maintain their reputation as the Sonic producers. They plan to boost sales by introducing Sonic to the largely popular Smash Brothers Tournament."
What nerve. Who did the press think they were? People adored him, and a great company like Sega understands that. He still makes plenty of dough, and as far as he knew, so did Sega. So what's the beef with the media all about?
Sure his latest adventures had been rushed a little. Maybe Sega had been working with Nintendo more, but did that mean his producers were feeling insecure? Of course not. Yes his ratings were getting progressively lower with the exception of ones with Nintendo's involvement. So what! Sega? Plummeting? A laughable scenario.
His Angel Island ring tone vibrated in his glove. "Ye-hello," Sonic motioned for a hot-dog with the cell in his other hand. Traffic was finally thinning out.
"I need to meet with you urgently." It was his manager.
"You sound horrible," the hedgehog frowned before stuffing the hot dog into his mouth.
Silence.
"I've had a long night. But I don't need you to point out the obvious (cough). That's not what you're paid for. I need you at my office in two."
Matt was always so last minute, but a job was something you could lose. The hedgehog rolled his eyes. "Hours?"
The manager gave a hard wheezy laugh as if he were seeing Dumb and Dumber for the first time. "I mean two seconds."
The phone line ended.