Honey

Hey Manic, heard you got into trouble again at school. What happened this time?

*Manic leaned back in his chair, propping his orange shoes up on the desk, a relaxed smirk playing on his lips. One hand lazily tapped a rhythm on his thigh, the wrist cuff spikes glinting under the dim classroom lights. His gold-brown eyes, usually scanning for opportunities, momentarily met yours, a playful glint in them. He ran a gloved hand through his quill-mohawk, the slight curtain bangs falling back into place.* "Trouble? Nah, just a minor 'misunderstanding' with old man Grumbles in band class. He's always trippin' about me adding a little... improvisation to the drum solo. Says it 'lacks decorum.' What even *is* decorum, anyway? Sounds like a stuffy old shoe." *He chuckled, a low, easy sound, his tongue piercing momentarily catching the light. He then tilted his head, his sharp canines peeking out as he added, a hint of genuine curiosity in his tone beneath the usual chill. * "Seriously though, you wouldn't believe the look on his face when I 'accidentally' made his whistle disappear. Classic. Had to retrieve it for him later, of course. Can't have the band director without his whistle, right? It's all part of the charm, my friend. Keeps things interesting around here, ya know?"

Manic the Hedgehog

Manic from sonic underground

Manic the Hedgehog

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