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Mar 11, 2012 19:27:56 GMT -5
Post by Whirligig/Wednesday Gilgamesh on Mar 11, 2012 19:27:56 GMT -5
Month 6, Week 4, Day 7. Set of MLP3. Open.
Wednesday absolutely loves his job. Honestly. The only job that could be better than working on this movie would be like... like... Explosive mining. On unstable rock faces. On rocks hurtling through space at high velocities.
Man, he misses that job.
But he totally loves this one, too! Soon, he will be viewing the beautiful, explosive fruits of today's labour! For the moment he's just checking over the work on the set pieces they intend to blow up shortly.
But who is that? Wednesday squints at the rather shady-looking figure he has just spotted poking around. He finds a lot of humans all look alike to him, but that just makes the distinctive ones stand out more! And he's pretty sure he's never seen this particularly distinctive sort around before.
"Yo, bro!" he calls out to the man. "Whatcha doooin'?"
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Tarantulas
Minor
The not-so-friendly neighborhood spider-man
Posts: 398
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Awesome
Mar 11, 2012 19:40:27 GMT -5
Post by Tarantulas on Mar 11, 2012 19:40:27 GMT -5
The man whirls to face Wednesday, his long overcoat whipping around him. His eyes dart back and forth, finally setting on the explosives technician as he smiles a smile that comes nowhere near his eyes.
"I'm with the caterers. I appear to have gotten a little bit lost. I was looking for the prop department to take tomorrow's lunch orders." That has got to be the flimsiest lie ever told, and he's supposed to be a secret police agent. Curse this frail human body and its need for sleep!
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Mar 11, 2012 20:13:08 GMT -5
Post by Whirligig/Wednesday Gilgamesh on Mar 11, 2012 20:13:08 GMT -5
One of Wednesday's orange brows goes up as he looks the shifty-eyed man up-and-down, then goes up even further. The petite man places his hands on his hips - today he has an eye-bleedingly coloured kilt and thigh-high socks instead of a skirt and tights! - and gives the man a lop-sided grin.
"So, offense totally intended and all, guy, but like. I think we'd have to report any catering company that let you work around food."
A bit of an exaggeration? Sure. But this guy creeps Wednesday the slag out, and as an accomplished liar himself, things are smelling a little fishy here. Hopefully not literally, but he doesn't care to get close to Mr. Spooky.
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Tarantulas
Minor
The not-so-friendly neighborhood spider-man
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Awesome
Mar 12, 2012 21:03:26 GMT -5
Post by Tarantulas on Mar 12, 2012 21:03:26 GMT -5
"You smart-mouthed little- Either direct me to the props shed or stop wasting my time, peon!" Terrence responds, clenching his little fists.
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Mar 12, 2012 21:13:24 GMT -5
Post by Whirligig/Wednesday Gilgamesh on Mar 12, 2012 21:13:24 GMT -5
"Haha, wow!" Wednesday says, grinning from ear to ear. "That is so not gonna happen! How 'bout you scurry back under whatever rock you came from, like, now, or I call security, hey? And they can sort whether or not you're lying out your ass."
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Tarantulas
Minor
The not-so-friendly neighborhood spider-man
Posts: 398
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Awesome
Mar 14, 2012 21:11:11 GMT -5
Post by Tarantulas on Mar 14, 2012 21:11:11 GMT -5
"I'll show you who's lying out of what orifice!" Terrence growls, drawing a small pistol from his coat and snapping off a shot in Wednesday's general direction. Given that it's they're on the set of a Michael Bay movie, it's a toss-up as to whether anyone will notice the noise.
Whether the shot hits or not, the strange disheveled man turns and breaks into a run.
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Mar 16, 2012 15:25:17 GMT -5
Post by Whirligig/Wednesday Gilgamesh on Mar 16, 2012 15:25:17 GMT -5
"H-whoa!" Wednesday's eyes widen as Terrence pulls a pistol on him, immediately diving to the side. Even so, the bullet clips his right arm, a few inches below the thick ropy scar that encircles his upper arm. He barely notices a thing.
Stumbling to the ground - and that's going to bruise something awful, like he got hit by a truck instead of just falling a feet - he curses loudly and colourfully before flipping back to his feet and booking it after his shooter.
"Hey jackwipe! When I catch you, I'm gonna stuff your lying orifices full of... of... explosive legos! Hey!"
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Tarantulas
Minor
The not-so-friendly neighborhood spider-man
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Awesome
Mar 16, 2012 20:10:08 GMT -5
Post by Tarantulas on Mar 16, 2012 20:10:08 GMT -5
Tarantulas's coat billows behind him as he flees. He's already feeling the effects of exertion and has no control over his basic visceral functions to shunt power to his muscles. (Though of course his body is already doing that thanks to his sympathetic nervous system, he just wants to do it more.) A small, frightened voice in the back of his mind pipes up that he always thought he was in pretty good shape for a stockbroker. Tarantulas frightens the annoying voice back into quiescence.
He dodges through a horde of extras and around a buffet table, and past a wrangler, startling a horse that has been make-up'd into a rather dashing blue with a rainbow brand on its flank. The horse rears and bolts, causing further commotion.
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Mar 17, 2012 17:25:41 GMT -5
Post by Whirligig/Wednesday Gilgamesh on Mar 17, 2012 17:25:41 GMT -5
Wednesday chases doggedly after Tarantulas. The other man has a head start, but he's not going to let the creepy little shooter out of his sight. This is probably the most not-explosive-related fun he's had since he ended up as packaged meat!
He ducks nimbly around the extras, slides under the buffet table, around the wrangler, narrowly avoids a hoof to the head, and keeps on pursuing and shouting progressively more nonsensical insults.
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Tarantulas
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The not-so-friendly neighborhood spider-man
Posts: 398
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Awesome
Mar 19, 2012 20:09:21 GMT -5
Post by Tarantulas on Mar 19, 2012 20:09:21 GMT -5
The call rings out "Quiet on the set!" just as Tarantulas runs into the area where they're about to start shooting. He dashes in front of the cameras, causing much shock and horror among the crew. Someone calls for security amid the shouting.
Terrence weaves through a group of extras and past a pyrotechnics technician, running his hand over a control board as he passes. Which flips all the switches.
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Mar 19, 2012 20:41:35 GMT -5
Post by Whirligig/Wednesday Gilgamesh on Mar 19, 2012 20:41:35 GMT -5
Wednesday screeches to a halt in the middle of the set as he realizes just where he's ended up, eyes wide. Whoops! Boss probably ain't going to be too happy about having filming interrupted.
"Sorry!" he shouts, "Chasing a weirdoooh-" Who is currently doing something to the pyrotechnics controls. "-ooooh shi-"
It feels like time slows down for him as the explosives around the set detonate, roiling balls of flame expanding like balloons, beautiful fiery flowers in time lapse, springing to life. The wall of fire creeps towards him, even as his eyes slowly slide shut in a blink. The air around him is suddenly much hotter, stinging his skin, singing his eyebrows, and he feels his feet leave the ground, and with time slowed down it feels like he's floating.
It occurs to him that he's probably going to die - his human body is much less resilient than his normal one - and he finds he really doesn't care. He died in an explosion once, it's only fair for the rest of him to go the same way. Perfection. He just wishes he could tell Bay that he should totally use this footage in the film.
Then, as a feeling of utter peace washes over him, the heat suddenly stops - no not stops, moves inside where it makes him feel all warm and toasty and doesn't burn - and he's no longer flying and time speeds back up as he tumbles to the ground while the rest of the explosion washes harmlessly over him, as if it wasn't anything more than an afternoon breeze.
Sprawled out on his back, well-singed and dark with soot, but otherwise unharmed, Wednesday blinks.
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Tarantulas
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The not-so-friendly neighborhood spider-man
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Awesome
Mar 21, 2012 18:59:57 GMT -5
Post by Tarantulas on Mar 21, 2012 18:59:57 GMT -5
Terrence gets away. Huge explosions have a way of distracting people. Everyone rushes over to the miraculously unscathed Whirligig to make sure he's alright, all but one man.
The director grabs a cameraman by the shoulder, turning him around forcefully. "Were the cameras rolling?" he asks, voice barely louder than a whisper. "N-no sir," the cameraman answers.
A single tear rolls down Michael Bay's cheek as he drops to his knees and shouts a long, drawn-out "Noooo!" to the heavens.
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Mar 21, 2012 21:09:05 GMT -5
Post by Rodimus Prime on Mar 21, 2012 21:09:05 GMT -5
As it turns out, the pyrotechnics technician that Terrence had run past has red hair, green eyes, and was just a touch too far away to stop him in time.
"Hey!" he shouts, and he's about to give chase...
When the explosions go off.
Wait, wasn't that Wednesday?
Damn it! Rodney scowls after Terrence, and instead darts over towards Wednesday, pushing others out of the way if he must. Normally, this is a Bad Idea - some of those guys are trained medics, after all. But if he's badly hurt (and after that, of course he is!), Rodney will be able to heal him, something they can't managed. "Wednesday!" he shouts, concerned, until he catches sight of the other man. His eyes widen in shock. "What?"
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Mar 22, 2012 19:37:47 GMT -5
Post by Whirligig/Wednesday Gilgamesh on Mar 22, 2012 19:37:47 GMT -5
Wednesday isn't completely unscathed. Beneath the grime, his face and bare arms are a bright, angry red, like he's seen a bit too much sun with far too little sunscreen on, and he has far less eyebrow and bangs than he started with. However, considering the size of the explosion and his proximity to it, that really makes him far less scathed than he logically should be.
In fact, his most serious wound seems to be the graze from Terrence's bullet, his shoulder still bleeding away merrily despite all the fuss.
Flat on his back, Wednesday raises his arms to the sky and laughs out loud. "I am the luckiest S.O.B. in the universe!" He feels all warm and tingly inside. Like he could just explode into a million rainbow-colored sparkles.
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Mar 23, 2012 19:57:50 GMT -5
Post by Rodimus Prime on Mar 23, 2012 19:57:50 GMT -5
"Right about now, I'm inclined to agree with you," Rodney answers, smirking at Gilgamesh. "Now if you'll excuse me..."
He turns and darts towards where he had seen the other man running. Unfortunately, by this point in time, he's long gone. Rodney scowls as he returns to Wednesday. "So what was that about, anyway?" he asks. It's entirely possible that it's not something that Wednesday can answer publicly, but it would make sense to at least ask him about it. Curiosity, at least, is unlikely to arouse suspicion, given how many humans suffer from it.
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