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[PRP] Smoking Guns (Rep/Wash) Goto Page: 1 2 [>] [»|]

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Ravvlet

Hygienic Waffles

PostPosted: Wed Dec 05, 2012 8:37 am


Wash had been feeling pretty good lately. For better or worse, he'd finally talked to Jerry, and while it hadn't been an amazing breakthrough, it certainly hadn't been awful. He hoped that in time, the man would heal, that maybe they could be friends again - though he would never be as brazen as to ask. No, he couldn't ask him to give up his past any more than he could have asked to give up his own. He knew what that felt like - to cling to something for so long and so hard that it soured everything; made things just a bit more dismal. Bitter.

No, that was something Wash knew well, though it now seemed like a distant memory.

He stretched, smiling faintly. He was sitting in the library, surrounded by office supplies - a roll of tape, some paper clips. A stapler. A book lay on the table before him - a book that brought back quite a few fond memories. He hadn't asked Sasha what had happened to it, but it was a mess now; ripped pages and missing hunks sadly stuffed back into the cover. He'd found it neatly tucked atop some of her things. She'd made no complaints when he offered to return it, and he figured the least he could do was attempt to restore it to some order. If he could manage to get all the pages back in place, he might even be able to re-shelf it, and no one the wiser.

As he'd worked, however, that sort of scenario seemed increasingly unlikely.

Still, it gave him something to do while he thought, and the work was strangely cathartic. He had to wonder who'd been so brazen in their destruction of facility property. It didn't seem like something Sasha would have done, but, who else could it be? It was strangely wasteful, so very unlike her, with her careful gestures, controlled mannerisms. Without any way to get off the islands, any form of entertainment was precious, even a book as old as Alice in Wonderland.
PostPosted: Wed Dec 05, 2012 9:02 am




Rep, rather predictably, didn't read much, if at all. Even the reading glasses and ability to read even the tiny text that had baffled him before didn't outweigh his innate aversion to the written word. There was something dead and distant about words, strange and alien. As a general rule, he preferred living breathing people, people couldn't proofread or edit themselves, manipulate sources and play games. Spoken words had a spectrum of body language, intonation and emotion behind them, and all of those things were what gave Rep his footing.

Unfortunately, sometimes books were just plain unavoidable, and when it came to learning survival s**t, there just weren't any alternatives. He'd come to return a book and pick out another one to dredge through laboriously, but what he found waiting for him in the library made him immediately reshuffle his schedule.

Wash. Alone, without Sasha there to draw his attention away like a lightning rod the way she always did, space to focus, space to needle and see what he got back. The tug of pleased curiosity on his lips curled to a full fledged cheshire smirk as his gaze shifted quickly to the book the Moon hunter was repairing. It was satisfying to see him trying to put right the destruction he'd wreaked, futile but as far as he was concerned, an insight. It seemed like idle busy work, but as far as Rep was concerned, in context, it meant he cared - someone who didn't would just throw the thing away.

He made no announcement of his presence other than the rustle of his coat and the clink of the artifact earring against his necklace as he slowly sauntered over to the table where Wash sat, pausing to lean almost possessively on the wooden surface. Everything about his posture and demeanour oozed more than the usual level of smug arrogance.

"No Sasha today, eh?"

Baneful
Crew

Dramatic Hunter


Ravvlet

Hygienic Waffles

PostPosted: Wed Dec 05, 2012 9:14 am


It was the strange metallic clink that hinted the moon hunter might not be entirely alone. The creak as someone leaned against his table - he glanced over with a puzzled expression.

Oh.

"No, I suppose she's busy in th' labs," he replied politely, taking a long strip of tape and applying it to the edge of a torn page. He slid a finger down the spine, pushing the tape flat against the opposing page to anchor it. Sasha had said this man was dangerous, and his body language wasn't exactly humble, but. They were all adults here. Surely.

Still, he had given her those scars.

"Didn't take you for a readin' man, Mister Rep. I guess there ain't else much to do here, though." He glanced up from his work, carefully. "How's the hand?" Wash had been there at dinner, when both he and Jerry had had a bit of an issue with their glasses. It seemed a safe enough topic to broach.
PostPosted: Wed Dec 05, 2012 9:28 am




Busy in the labs. He said it like Sasha was a normal person, someone who consisted of something more than vitriol and venom twisted into a shape that merely resembled a human being. He curled a lip in a swell of condescension at the naivety of this very concept. "Oh aye I bet she's very ******** busy lately with one thing and another." He let his gaze flick across the other man pointedly as he spoke, the words were friendly but his tone was not.

And of course he would be friendly, Sasha would find herself someone warm, someone she could keep close and handy, someone who wouldn't push too hard past the walls that kept the darkness at bay. "There's plenty to do here if you know where to look." he said conversationally. "And the hand's fine, Tracey's dealt with a lot ******** worse than a bit of glass." he even held up his palm flippantly, without a scratch in sight.

He tapped a fingernail on the tabletop. "What about you? How's the stealing women working out for you?"



Baneful
Crew

Dramatic Hunter


Ravvlet

Hygienic Waffles

PostPosted: Wed Dec 05, 2012 10:13 am


Wash frowned a little, raising one eyebrow. Okay, okay, the man was a little rough around the edges, but such language! Was it really necessary? It wasn't like he'd never been exposed to it before, with his line of work, but he found it vaguely irritating. He tried to keep his expression neutral, concentrating on the work at hand. Carefully tape the back of the page along the seam, then find the next one, reattach it just so; no wrinkles or bumps, nothing to keep the book from closing. Not as good as new, but good enough. Like so many things here. It could be worse, he told himself. After all was said and done, it could be-

Well.

He took in a slow, steadying breath. "I'm fine, thanks for askin'," was all he could manage, surprised and then almost bleakly amused. Of course, of course. Well, it wasn't like he didn't entirely deserve it. "It's good o' you to be lookin' out for Jerry like that." Wash kept his tone as neutral as possible. Yes, the other man did need more friends, but hell, what a friend to have. Maybe the drinking wasn't his only vice.
PostPosted: Wed Dec 05, 2012 10:36 am



Rep watched Wash neatly mend the book, page for page. It would never be perfect again or close, yet here he was, still persistently fixing it. Something in the Sun hunter rankled at the gesture, it was somehow defiant, a steady insistence that no matter what he destroyed, he would steadily rebuild. There was a sharp and violent desire to burn the book and the hunter to ashes. He would never bring Sasha down, never break her with this man in his way. He had never had issue with Wash before, extending the tolerance he tried to extend to all moons to him. But that ended now - Rep's patience went only as far as his immediate plans. Wash had to go.

There was a twist of satisfaction at Wash's evasive reply, it was a familiar response, the response of a normal person. Your average person would do anything to avoid an argument, half the fun was finding their trigger. He chuckled nastily.

"Me, looking out for Jerry? Nice one." he waved a hand dismissively. "Listen, I couldn't give a ********. He couldn't fight for his girl so he lost her, that's how s**t works, there's always scumbags out there ready to snipe out from under you. It's not like she's even hard to get."

He sat on the edge of the table and added conspiratorially. "I could have had her, if I wanted. Twice. But I guess that's standard with women. They like their pet nice guys but are always looking elsewhere for the real entertainment."

"Looks like she got herself a new Jerry."


Baneful
Crew

Dramatic Hunter


Ravvlet

Hygienic Waffles

PostPosted: Wed Dec 05, 2012 10:55 am


Wash looked up from his work. The only sign of his discomfort was a slight twitch of a finger as he flicked a half-mended page.

"Why are you here, Mister Rep?" He smoothed out the sheet he'd worried at carefully, closing the book and folding his hands atop it. His gaze met Rep's, eye for eye, doing his best to maintain a level of calm. He trusted Sasha implicitly; this man's words only made him a liar and a fool, in so far as he could tell. He dismissed the comment about Jerry. Jerry was, when he was sober and in his right mind, a fine man. They had been good for each other, once, a fact that now plagued his troubled and one-time friend.
PostPosted: Wed Dec 05, 2012 11:03 am




There was a delight in the way Wash declined to rise to his baiting, steady and calm. It was familiar, and in its familiarity he found determination to persist, no man was immovable, it was simply a matter of finding the right thing to say, the right thing to do. He wanted the measure of Wash, an assessment of what he was dealing with, and he was intent he would have it.

"I was returning a book." he drawled as if the moon was hard of thinking. "Then I saw you, and figured there might be s**t you were interested in knowing. I'm a caring sort of guy right? I hate to see people cheating, and Sasha well.." he shrugged, as if the subject matter was only of vague interest. "I guess I'd want to know if who I was with didn't belong one hundred percent to me."

He leaned back on his palms on the tabletop. "Because part of her belongs to me."


Baneful
Crew

Dramatic Hunter


Ravvlet

Hygienic Waffles

PostPosted: Wed Dec 05, 2012 11:12 am


Wash smiled then, and it was cool and empty; and vaguely foreign on a face more accustomed to warm laughter.

"That little lady don't belong to anyone, I'm afraid. She ain't a thing, that you can give or take." He wondered what part of her, what dark and secret part, that this foreboding man could draw out; had drawn out on so many occasions. He was no fool; he'd heard about the spars - there had been more than one, and the pair had a rather violent history. As for Sasha - well. She was complicated, fractured. He trusted her, in spite of this. Believed in her.

"She gives an' takes as she pleases."

He took a deep breath, blowing outward nosily as he leaned back in his chair. "'Course, you could piss on her, an' try and prove me wrong. Is that what this is, Mister Rep? Some kinna pissing contest? I don't much like playing games, and as far as I know I ain't done you any harm."
PostPosted: Wed Dec 05, 2012 11:30 am




The smirk seemed to soften, the predatory edge blunting as his expression edged into what could only be described as pitying. He felt like he found himself speaking to a child, naive and blind to the sharp harsh realities of the world. It was like speaking to Allan, blind earnest faith that everyone was essentially a good person.

"She is though." he said. "She belongs to all the s**t that made her the way she is, to the men who twisted her into the pretty little ******** monster she is today. And she can be taken. Just ask Jerry."

Wash seemed to ask nothing of her, just content to be her pet, to believe in fairy tales and blind faith.

"You'll let her take and take and take because that seems like the kind of guy you are. You don't look like you've ever had fight in you - just another bit of human driftwood she picked up." There was something infuriating about the polite deference of the man in front of him, the rage building in him, simmering sharp and raw. He wanted to seize the book, get in his face, make him fight, because on the battle field was where you saw the heart of people. But he was still a chained dog, under constant watch, he had to play things slow and carefully.

"Also, don't give me the ******** innocent act, it's really tedious. Good people don't go in for bitches like Sasha. Even if you were before, you aren't now, it's like a disease."


Baneful
Crew

Dramatic Hunter


Ravvlet

Hygienic Waffles

PostPosted: Wed Dec 05, 2012 11:54 am


"Pretty, huh?" Wash cocked his head to the side. "I didn't know you'd taken such a shine to 'er." Was that what this was about? Was he threatening to - no. He was pretty sure that kind of assault would have the man before him put down in short order. He wasn't entirely sure why he was still alive today, but he had learned that questioning leadership just led to derision and more questions.

He scratched his jaw. "If she wanted you so bad I can't see as to why she hasn't come runnin' into your arms already. Is that all you have t'say? Vileness and vitriol? Tell me, sir, what made you so full 'o hate?" Who twisted you, Rep? He wanted to ask, but didn't. It was an ugly thing to say, and he could restrain himself. They were just words. He hadn't hurt anyone yet. Wash crossed his arms, shifting a little in his chair.

"I'm happy with who and where I am. Are you?"
PostPosted: Wed Dec 05, 2012 12:08 pm



Rep had to laugh. "A shine to her. Oh yeah, absolutely. I'm just all about those bitches, I just have two guys as a distraction, clearly. Filling the void in my soul left by Sasha. Hahah."


The barking laughter cut off sharply however at his follow up comment. "She has my dear ******** naive Washington. Ran right to me, had that b***h in my ******** lap even, could have done whatever I wanted. I'm just like not interested in whores, I've had my fill for one whole lifetime." It was hard to keep his anger in check, just barely bubbling to the surface. His well meaning therapist was dead, he didn't want a new one.

"I'm happy as a pig in s**t." he snarled. "Hard not to be when who you are is me, and where I am is above everyone else."



Baneful
Crew

Dramatic Hunter


Ravvlet

Hygienic Waffles

PostPosted: Wed Dec 05, 2012 12:34 pm


Wash felt something then, a stirring, a cold fire he didn't know he had in him. He swore he could smell a whiff of ozone. Whore. He knew better than anyone how false that statement was, how base and unfair. b***h, he could handle. Monster was fine. But this was no way to talk about a lady. Still, they were just words, and words never harmed anyone.

Sally was a distant, angry hum in the background.

"A pig, an' in s**t too. Sounds about right, given as to how you seem to be full of it." He leaned forward. "I'll ask you again; what do you want?" His voice was a deep rumble. He'd long since tired of this little conversation.
PostPosted: Wed Dec 05, 2012 12:43 pm




Rep's laugh was triumphant. An insult. Insults meant he was winning. Shove and shove and shove and eventually even a saint would shove back. Something had struck a nerve somewhere.

"There's a lot of things I want, and most of them I get. I want Sasha, broken, mine." A manic edge slipped into his voice, sharpened his gaze. "And I'll have that. As for what I want from you? Right now?" That same mirthless derisive laughter bubbled forth again. "I just wanted to see if you were any sort of man. Any sort of threat"

He gestured over Wash with a flourish of his hand. "You aren't."

His eyes flicked to the book. "And you won't be able to tape her up when I'm through with her."


Baneful
Crew

Dramatic Hunter


Ravvlet

Hygienic Waffles

PostPosted: Wed Dec 05, 2012 1:26 pm


Wash narrowed his eyes. It was a kind of pain, to stay seated in that chair. To not bring it to blows. Sally's insistent hum broke off in a vicious hiss. He closed his eyes and rolled his shoulders, face carved into a deep frown. He concentrated on relaxing, on leaning back. On his breathing. He pinched the bridge of his nose. It was just a book. It wasn't even his.

He could buy new books.

"You say that like it's a given thing." He stayed quiet a little while longer, concentrating. Calm. Steady. "What're you gonna do, huh? Beat her 'til she gives in? Twist her into somethin' ugly, horrible? Somethin' like you."

He shook his head, an angry, sharp motion. "As for me, well. I don't wanna be any kinna man you'd respect." He stood, pushing back his chair and tucking the half-repaired book under his arm. "I'll pray for you," he remarked, a parting gesture in so far as he was concerned. He would pray - for someone to cut him down, before he hurt anyone else. Pray that she would be safe. That he had the strength of arm and tenacity to ensure it himself, if the need arose.

She could fight her own battles. He had to believe that, when they risked their lives daily and were so often called into battle. There was no room for doubt.
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THIS IS HALLOWEEN: Deus Ex Machina Training Facilities

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