could be made out of the spinball-wound axe kick suddenly descending upon the hawk’s position!

he start doubting his abilities? What a worthless protocol.

He will take his chances.

“You’ll regret that.”

The tense stare-down is broken; Without another word, the mechanical hedgehog appears to instantly vanish into afterimages from where he stood.

From above—! The faintest ‘𝘷𝘳𝘦𝘦' sound —

from the fact Jet is *baiting* him into action.

Metal wasn’t stupid, he knew the probability of this leading into a trap was all but certain!
..But was there 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 anything a mobian could do, that the robot couldn’t eventually predict? Let alone from a simple bandit.

When did —

avian may be insinuating in this situation, Metal wasn’t about to back down. He was certain he could beat him.

|| There’s one in particular I *may* just end up caving on creating, but my only real obstacle for any of this is making new emails tbh

|| unfortunately I’m having Visions of banter and cute int’s recently btwn a few charas (quite possibly no one remembers exists) with Metal, and I’m *almost* at the point of being willing to do it myself, just to get it out of my head lol

This is built for fanart, buuuut my pc is still incomplete

complicated, given his current overabundance of fur).

“Alright, now get in there.”

Hopping down to the floor, the robot points toward the giant glass tube in the back corner of the room, which hisses with the opening of the chamber after Metal activates a nearby control panel with his other hand.

metaphorical bear, here. Even if he 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 understand the cause.

Luckily for him, Metal was nearly finished, now. All that remained is hooking everything together for use, and then clambering atop the table where the other sat, to tag Sonic with sensor stickers (an effort made a 𝘵𝘢𝘥 more —

nuisance even in silence?!” Metal shot back a glare over-shoulder, expecting Sonic’s compliance.

With augmented hearing more sensitive than even most living creatures, it could be obvious why he’s irate. If the mutt truly wanted this done *right*, he should know not to poke the —

Being neither blind, nor deaf, Metal’s patience rapidly wears thin to the only sounds in the room; the inconsistent patterns the organic was producing of *taps*, and chuffs, and the usually imperceivable tiny creaks of the table with 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 motion, and the—!

“𝙈𝙪𝙨𝙩 you insist on being a —

“Don’t you ever speak that specific arrangement of words to me again.”