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 Posted: Wed Jul 02, 2014 11:42 am
lines of fear and ********. <********> ******** ******** ******** s**t ******** what the <********> Jesus goddamn Christ <******** s**t what--
(She's one of the younger Lifers, some pretty thing named Sarah Dosset or Sarah Dagget or some ******** vanilla name like that, and her hair is a warm chestnut and wild and sweaty and crowning her pale face like a halo on the cot, and her whole body throbs like a giant heartbeat while the techs restrain her and shout instructions at him and Leslie and God himself, and he blindly follows, and he remembers that she smells like fresh laundry because she likes clean things and her smile is glittering and the only thing shining now is the foam coming from her mouth and where the ******** did she get all those pills--)
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Posted: Wed Jul 02, 2014 11:47 am
neck jut
"Midgets," he said with a dangerous smile as ignored the b***h, "keep bothering me."
And just to mess with him, Jack reached out and made a grabby hand motion.
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Posted: Wed Jul 02, 2014 9:52 pm
step one you say People being miserable was uncomfortable, but at least it was a known factor. He had spent enough time his family to know it, to tune out the sound of weeping siblings and a forlorn mother. It wasn't pleasant, but it was standard fare. Leslie fetched the stitches and the needles and thread, and the hunter on the bed snorted. "Yeah," he said. "It only works to a point, and it doesn't last forever." Every word was exhausted, each one more than the last, said not as a defence, just a simple explanation of why he was, in fact, taking another drink from his flask. A long one.
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Posted: Wed Jul 02, 2014 9:53 pm
lines of fear and blame"Dumb ******** b***h," Leslie said, awed at her failure. "Did she even have anything to drink with them?"
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Posted: Wed Jul 02, 2014 9:54 pm
neck jut"Go ******** your mom," Leslie replied, unphased-- except he maybe stepped back. Just maybe.
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Posted: Wed Jul 02, 2014 10:27 pm
lines of fear and blame
If it was possible to stop time cold with a look, then that was the kind Jack wore. His eyes bore into Leslie because there was no need to bother with his hands, which were busy enough as it was. There was no catlike indolence in his gaze now, but active, sharp anger.
"Get out if you aren't helping."
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Posted: Wed Jul 02, 2014 10:31 pm
neck jut
His eyes lit with amusement and then dimmed until there was nothing left. This time he lunged forward, his hands blurring almost into claws--
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Posted: Wed Jul 02, 2014 10:39 pm
step one you say
"Here's a smart idea." Jack made to pluck the flask from the man's grasp with a now blood-printed hand and pass it off to Leslie, who mostly ended up just being his living cabinet of tools. "Wait until you're not bleeding out before you get wasted."
It was the same thing over and over again that day: Nothing lasts forever. Nothing really matters anyway. What's the point? Woe is ******** me. The first few times they had been grating, but now the edge had dulled a little, became a poke from a pen instead of riddling ant bites.
"Better yet, how about you keep your mouth shut, let me finish here, and sleep on it. Wake up and do whatever the hell you want afterwards, but I'm not cleaning up both your blood and barf, thanks."
They'd already had to do that for previous patients.
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Posted: Wed Jul 02, 2014 10:43 pm
lines of fear and blame When Leslie looked back at Jack, there wasn't any malice: just a dead emptiness, heavy like lead. "Sure," he said, backing off because there were too many people holding her down and she was a small thing, waifish, but he guessed that sort of fact didn't matter here, when the slightest of bodies could hold the greatest of strength. His hands were empty, and it was too late to change his mind. Maybe he didn't belong here after all, if none of this s**t moved him.
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Posted: Wed Jul 02, 2014 10:45 pm
neck jut"Jesus--!" Leslie skittered back, eyes narrowed in suspicious, hackles raised and hands, too. "Way to make me almost summon my ******** weapon in here, jesus christ, you a*****e."
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Posted: Wed Jul 02, 2014 10:48 pm
step one you say "We all got our own priorities," the man replied, shrugging with his good shoulder, staring up at the ceiling. "But sure, yessir." The grin on his face was mocking, but all the same, he quieted down. Leslie was just grateful that he didn't seem to be pitching a ******** fit. "If I never have to clean puke again," he said, almost wistful, handing Jack tools as needed from the stupid dinky metal tray, "I'd be so ******** happy."
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Posted: Wed Jul 02, 2014 11:00 pm
The Less I KnowThey were swamped, but not so swamped that a lowly b***h minion couldn't go on a food run. "Hey, ********," Leslie said, trashing his gloves and sanitizing his hands. "Want food brought back?" It wasn't until after he said it that he realised what a b***h subservient move it was. Whatever. It had been a long ******** day so far, and giants probably needed a billion times more food than he did.
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Posted: Wed Jul 02, 2014 11:38 pm
neck jut
And Jack laughed and laughed and laughed as he passed the little rat. Sometimes one just needed to re-assert one's dominance every once in a while, remind others just where they lied on the food chain. Twitter, he couldn't control. Peyton's second c**t for a mouth, he couldn't control. But Leslie was malleable, and in time he would be leashed.
It didn't matter in the end what people thought about him, not really. He'd let them talk if it really was interesting; he'd busy himself just laughing, because nobody knew jack about Jack.
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Posted: Wed Jul 02, 2014 11:46 pm
step one you say
"Then you're going to be downright miserable," Jack replied, matching the man's mocking smile. He hoped the rubbing alcohol burned this a*****e's arm like fire as he addressed the patient, thick with sarcasm."If you really wanted to end your life, just by the way, man, don't half-a** it next time so that people like me and Shitstain here don't have to sit and clean up after you like a ******** baby."
(Coward.)
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Posted: Thu Jul 03, 2014 12:24 am
lines of fear and blame
He turned back to hand something to a more experienced hunter (a syringe maybe, his hands had known and passed it off before his brain could register it) without a word. The anger persisted and grew with each frantic (measured) motion, information exchanged between them all at a dizzying pace for even his mind, and the buzz of the machine she's hooked to is a comfort and constant sound, beeping and screeching in between the (controlled) scramble to pump her stomach and clear her airway. And then, losing its rhythm, the machine fell to a single note.
Someone shouted a curse and rounded on the rest, looking for the perpetrator, because the pharmaceuticals were supposed to be locked tight and secured even against most staff, none of the s**t she swallowed was over the counter, who ******** up here?
He stepped back and checked the time. 11:12 am. Christ, he thought wildly, his heart still pumping, she took so long she couldn't even make a wish. She's the one who ******** up.
The hunter looked past Jack to Leslie, bare-handed and empty-eyed, and barked, "Get a bag, trainee." Behind him was the sound of gloves snapping off and dark mutters.
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