Putting a Cork In It

[Roach Copeland]

(Thank you Savepoint for letting me use you in this little story)

Brook Tyler was used to people pointing and staring at her drone as she navigated it through the halls. When she first began her time at the school, it was due to the confusion of what she actually was. A penguin? A robot? A Decepticon? Later on, it was due to her style -- the leather and mini-skirts that she wore to confuse the “pack.” So, yes, she was used to stares and whispers.

But laughter was new.

She continued down the hallway, books clutched in her drone’s arms, analyzing the amount of laughter and frequency each student was bringing to the environment. And if the paralytic-component of her vat’s liquid base wasn’t present, she was sure she’d be feeling the burning of unknown embarrassment on her cheeks. But ever the trooper, she moved on towards her class.

That is, until someone tugged on her drone’s butt.

Oddly enough, it wasn’t the first time someone tried to ‘cop a feel’ on her drone. So, with a surprisingly graceful spin, she turned and raised her books to strike - yet only found the familiar sight of white hair and a nose wrinkled in disgust. Roach.

He held up a license plate, Brook already seeing the anger begin boiling through his blood. Brook twitched a brow and caused the drone to lower its head and so its optics could zoom in on the license plate. The letters ‘FATBTMGRL’ were etched into it and magnets were on the other side that must have been used....

Oh.

Brook twitched a finger, the sensors of her tank reading the movement and telling the drone to raise a hand and rest it on top of Roach’s shoulder. Brook whispered, the mic picking up her words and altering them to come out with that pleasant, calm tone her drone was known for.

“Roach. It was just a joke-”

“Yeah, real funny, guys! How ‘bout we tip some fucker out of his wheel chair and throw him some tap shoes!” Roach said as he stepped away from the drone’s hand. He turned, holding the license plate up in his hand. “Anyone wanna fess up or am I goin’ to have to take you all to fuckin’ Wonderland?”

Brook flinched within her vat as she watched the scene unfold from the monitors in front of her. The sensors read this movement and the drone let out a sigh before moving to take Roach’s hand. “Roach, come on. It isn’t a big-”

“Take us to Wonderland?” A voice came from the crowd before the speaker pushed to the front. Ah. Derrick Cork.

He continued. “Are we to assume you actually read that much of the book -- Hell, read a book -- to even know what that means?” Cork peeled back his lips into that annoying smirk he usually sported before looking towards the license plate. “Besides, you should thank me. Her tags were just about to expire.”

Brook’s finger moved a centimeter but the drone didn’t read the movement in time. As the drone’s arm grabbed for Roach’s shoulder, the boy was already passed its reach. Roach tossed the license plate up into the air before clenching a fist, the plate suddenly stopping mid-air and then poising to strike like a spear in battle.

“How ‘bout you apologize before I shove more than a cork down your throat-”

“Oh, Roach. I’m wet in my panties over this...”

Brook knew Roach. Probably more than anyone else. So when he lurched forward with a tightened fist, her drone’s arms were already thrown around his waist, tugging him back. She whispered. Her droned repeated. “Roach. Please.”

“What was that? Oil Can?” Cork shot back which naturally brought the snickers from those around him.

Roach pulled against the hold, throwing out some kicks towards Cork without any of them coming close. He cursed, twisting in Brook’s arms as he tried to break lose. Brook flickered her eyes to the left, the drone reading this and slowly backing up with the boy in hand.

Roach, ever the fighter, continued to shout. “You best watch it, Cork! Shut you damn-”

Cork was besides himself with laughter. “Don’t tell me! I should put a cork in it, right?”

“Ain’t that the downfall of your parent’s marriage? They put a CORK in it?” retorted Roach.

And true to Roach’s form, his words struck their mark. That smirk left Cork’s face immediately and within seconds, he was moving towards the retreating pair. He opened his mouth to speak but found himself silenced when Roach lifted himself up by Brook’s arms, pulled back his feet, and then kicked right into Cork’s stomach.

The blow was enough to stagger Brook’s drone, it waddling backwards before finally having to let Roach free. The drone let out an almost comical whine before it fell back onto its back, its limbs flailing around like a tortoise on its back. She heard scuffling, the sound of fist meeting skin, some cheers from the other students as the fight progressed. She tried navigating the drone the best she could, as quick as she could, but it took her a solid minute before she was able to sit up, her limbs solidly connected to the ground.

A teacher, Mr. Hendricks, had broken up the two, Cork sporting a bloody lip while Roach showed off an already swelling nose. The teacher was shouting for the two to stop while Coach Armstrong moved down the hall to assist. The boys continued to yell threats to each other, both pushing to go for another punch when the lone teacher was distracted with the other boy.

In the end though, Coach Armstrong lived up to his name. His arms wrapped around Cork and he began pulling him away from the scene. Mr. Hendricks was now free to handle Roach. The teacher turned, arms grabbing Roach by the shoulders to push him away from trying to continue the fight. He kept repeating this foolishness was over.

Cork didn’t think so. The boy gave an impressive twist, freeing himself from Coach Armstrong for just a second. He took in a quick intake of air before thrusting forward, releasing the scream.

A sonic wave slammed into Roach and Mr Hendricks. The two of them were blown back into the lockers, both slamming painfully into the metal. The two slumped to the ground leaving them breathless.

Brook noted it left the entire audience breathless, actually. Stunned silence followed for a few seconds before the sound of Cork hitting the ground was heard. Brook’s drone turned its head and watched as Cork struggled with his own gravity. Much like her drone earlier, his limbs were kicking wildly as an invisible weight pressed down on his back. Armstrong held an arm over him before turning towards the group.

“I said this was over. Get to class. Now!”

And with that, the crowd scattered as Nurse Jenkins and Herrera rounded the corner.