paradoxlol | .049

Entry tags:

.049 | Voice.

Minimal death and destruction, no known curses carried back to the Barge, and I didn't get baked into any witches' pies or swallowed by wolves. [Or whatever it is that happens to sassy woodlands critters n fairy tales.] All in all, I'd say that was a good port. [Pause, then he makes a noncommittal "hm."] Despite being turned into a very articulate chipmunk.

[Private to Perry]
The silent treatment's gone on long enough. We're having a talk.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I don't want to talk.

Tough shit. We're talking anyway.

Leave me alone, warden.

[In lieu of an answer, Arthur goes to your door and POUNDS ON IT.]

[PERRY DOES NOT OPEN IT.]

Fuck. Off.

No. [DON'T MAKE HIM PICK THE LOCK. He's Arthur. He will.] What are you gonna do, Perry? Sulk on the Barge forever?

[Perry yanks the door open, just a crack.] Give me one good reason I should listen to anything you have to say, asshole.

[How tempted was Arthur to kick that door back into Perry? Very. But he refrained, since it wouldn't really be all that conducive towards ironing things out. If his inmate moved to slam the door shut, though, Arthur would strike.]

Because I'm your ticket out of here.

And a liar, a criminal-- [Perry's voice is so full of hate right now.] --and you fuck with people's heads for a goddamn living.

You're not exactly a model citizen yourself. [His voice is firm, trying to keep professional.] The dream sharing? That doesn't just fuck with people. It can help, too.

The difference is, Arthur, I don't pretend I'm something I'm not. [Perry's voice gets a little louder, forgetting that they're having this conversation in the corridor. He's got a lot of rage.] But oh, no, it can help, stealing people's memories and putting thoughts into their heads is helping them. Well that just makes everything fucking fine, doesn't it?

[Arthur barely suppresses rolling his eyes, glancing back quickly, subtly, to make sure nobody overheard that part.] I don't put thoughts into people's heads. I'm not the person from that flood. [Come on, Perry, be reasonable. The sedative combos other Arthur used don't even exist yet. Pffth.]

I meant it can be used therapeutically. "Can" being the operative word here, because I'm not gonna push it.

Edited 2011-09-22 05:28 (UTC)

Yeah, you're not him. Just like I'm not him. [He points at Arthur.] But you and your buddies tried it. Eames and who-the-fuck-ever else. Inception, right? Was that therapeutic?

It was a job. It's got nothing to do with you. [TRY TO SOUND A LITTLE LESS LIKE A SOCIOPATH, ARTHUR.]

Yeah, you keep saying that. Say it enough and maybe it'll even come true.

[HE'S GOING TO TRY SLAMMING THE DOOR ON YOU NOW.]

[Hm, if he slams against the door now, it'll be like coming up against a brick wall. So, Arthur waits a beat. Another beat. Another. Just long enough to figure Perry's away from the door now. Okay, that's enough waiting. Time to kick the door in like a TV cop. Hey, Arthur's from an action movie; THIS IS ALL IN A DAY'S WORK FOR HIM.]

[Perry is indeed away from the door, just moving to lean against the counter in his tiny kitchenette. Then Arthur slams the door open and he comes forward instantly, big hands curling into fists.] What the fuck?

[Arthur can't do that. It's not fair. Aaand Perry really doesn't like anyone being in his apartment.]

[Perry may be huge, but Arthur's fast, well-trained, and has taken out more dangerous men than his inmate-- okay, maybe that part's debatable. But still, he's not going to back down now. He sees those fists, and he gets right up in the big man's face, ready to dodge the moment his inmate loses his temper.] I'm done with all this fucking around. You're not shutting me out anymore.

[Perry's mostly taken his aggression out in the gym lately, channeled it into maintaining his sanity throughout all of the various forms of shit the Barge has been throwing at him over the last few months. But he's at fraying point, and this? After everything he's learned about Arthur, the guy is in his apartment, in his space. And he's being an asshole, getting in Perry's face. Perry's fragile grip on his temper snaps.

With a growl, he swings a roundhouse with his right fist. He follows it up immediately with a cheap undercutting left to catch the dodge he expects from the warden.]

Edited 2011-09-22 14:05 (UTC)

[Arthur brings his arm up to deflect that first strike ('parry Perry's punch' just sounds too alliterative) and moves just out of the direct path of the first punch, hoping to shake Perry's balance as his arm takes the rest of the damage. Swiftly, he turns just enough to get a good angle to try to jab his elbow into the larger man's throat in a sharp strike. Counter fast and go for the weak spots, that was how he was trained. Too bad he's not expecting that swing from Perry's left fist, which gets him at about the same time as he goes for the throat. Fuck, it's like getting hit with a sledgehammer, even to an experienced fighter like Arthur.

...

On the upside, the force of Perry's blow knocks him out of immediate arm's reach, so it affords Arthur a second to recover. Just a second, though, because he needs to get Perry before the inmate can get him. Whether or not that elbow strike hit, Arthur's going for the weak knee next, and he's not going easy with that kick.]

[Perry knows Arthur is fast--their various minor scuffles before have shown him that--and immediately after throwing his punches, he ducks back. Arthur's elbow glances off the side of his neck as he pulls away but it just pisses him off. He's been hurt much, much worse than that and right now, he's in Scary Perry mode.

He bounces back on his heels, changing his momentum and pushing forward, intending to go for either a punch to the gut or a fist square in the face. But Arthur attacks first and, although Perry senses a kick coming, all his weight is on his bad leg and he can't change his position fast enough to avoid it. The kick connects. Intense pain spikes up his leg and his knee gives out, dropping him awkwardly to the floor.

He may be down, but he's not out. The big ex-linebacker pushes through the pain and slams a hand out to grab Arthur's leg, arm--anything--and drag him to the floor. If he gets him, he's going to go for the throat. All his brewing rage is taking over.]

[As soon as Perry's down, Arthur moves to deliver a kick to the head, just to stun him, then he sees those hands going for him and jumps back out of reach, because he sure as hell isn't going to take this fight to the ground if he can avoid it.

Bad idea. This whole thing was a bad idea. Normally, at this point, he'd just shoot his opponent. Normally, his opponent's just a projection, so it doesn't matter. Right now it's his inmate, and Arthur's not really sure where to go from here, because beating the shit out of Perry? That's a line he doesn't want to cross. He wants his inmate (and, hell, himself) to get this aggressive shit out of his system without Arthur himself getting pummelled in the process of it, but he doesn't want to dominate the guy or anything.]

[Arthur backs off and Perry makes a frustrated noise. Solving things with his fists has worked in the past (or at least that's what he tells himself) and he's just so angry. All the time, about everything. He's angry that he's stuck here, angry that the Admiral keeps fucking with him, angry that Arthur lied, just angry. The bezerker rage clouds Perry's mind. He needs this. Winning a fight will give him back some agency and he desperately needs to be able to control something. He starts to struggle to his feet, forcing his knee to work, ignoring the pain. He spits out words at Arthur:] Get back here, get the fuck back here! We're not fucking done.

[He needs to end this fast, before the situation escalates too badly-- like it can get much worse. Knocking Perry out, that's the best way out of this, he figures. Then he doesn't back down and neither of them beat each other half to death. Just a couple clean blows to the head, then he'll... fuck, get someone to help him drag Perry to the infirmary or something. It's that or get him in a choke hold, but that's putting him too close for comfort to a raging berserker.] What, you want us to beat the shit out of each other? Kill each other? You'll still be here when it's done, and I'll still be there to piss you off.

[As Perry starts to get to his feet, Arthur reaches around, pulls his glock from its holster, and ejects the clip in a quick action. Using Perry's struggles to his advantage, he moves around to strike the weapon against the back of the big man's skull while he still can, before Perry regains those extra inches he's got on him. Of course, this also puts him back in grabbing range, and there's always a chance that Perry's fast enough to get him before he gets his inmate.]

Edited 2011-09-22 16:03 (UTC)

I want to beat you into the goddamn ground, I'm sick of you and your motherfucking warden bullshit! [Perry's not running on logic now. He puts his weight on his messed-up knee and it buckles. Looks like Arthur's gotten lucky. The slip distracts the big inmate and throws his balance out but he sees Arthur coming, getting close. Acting on instinct, Perry gives up on trying to stand and instead just pitches himself forward, wrapping his thick-muscled arms around Arthur's chest like he's back on the field dishing out a brutal sack on the QB. He squeezes hard, tightening his arms ruthlessly. He wants to take Arthur down.]

.049 | Voice.

Private

Private

Private

SPAM THAT YOU GET NO SAY IN

THE BEST KIND OF SPAM

SPAM

SPAM

SPAM

SPAM

SPAM

SPAM

SPAM

SPAM

SPAM

SPAM

SPAM

SPAM

SPAM

SPAM

SPAM - witness, once again, my fighting fail!

SPAM - you always say that but YOUR FIGHTING IS TOTALLY FINE :|

SPAM

SPAM

SPAM

Re: SPAM

SPAM

SPAM

SPAM

SPAM

SPAM