lieutenantantichrist | [17] [Text/Action for Mahogany] - "Whenever You Get Involved, Someone Gets Hurt."

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[17] [Text/Action for Mahogany] - "Whenever You Get Involved, Someone Gets Hurt."

[ACTION]

[In a low-rent corner of Mahogany, there's a real gym. No mazes, no boss trying to fight you in exchange for something they call a badge, no lackeys, just weight machines and a floor covered with rubber mats, the way it should be. Open twenty-four hours, and this late there's no human in this room but Blake. He's in a sweatsuit, gray in contrast to the brown of the Hitmonlee holding pads for him in its upraised paws. The only sound is his harsh breaths and the thump of his fists on the canvas. His shoulders are hunched like a boxer's. His eyes look straight ahead. Judging from the sweat darkening the back of his shirt, he's been here a while.

On the other side of the room, a Snubbull is sitting on the floor, looking at a Gear that's resting on the mats. A Musharna floats beside her. Fifteen minutes of frustration proved that claws are no good for texting with, but she wants to talk to someone. She really wants to.

She snubs softly, so as not to make her trainer angry. The Musharna's eyes show no reaction, but the buttons on the Gear depress. The text that Steve watches appear seems to be accurate, more or less. The transcription might come strange through the dreaming creature. It's close enough for what she needs.]

[TEXT]

Hello lo low hello

Please talk to me.
I want to talk.
I will tell you my favorite story.
He told it to me when I couldn't sleep. His eyes were closed for some of it but I shook his knee and got to hear the end. Without the end it isn't a story.

Once
upon a time there was a girl. She was poor and alone because her parents were dead, and child services didn't exist then, so she had to go to live with her wicked stepmother and do work for her. Hard work, the kind that nearly killed her, but in time she got used to it.

Then one day she heard the prince was giving a big ball. She asked to go, but her stepmother wouldn't let her. So she tried to run off and get a ride to the castle from a knight, but her wicked stepmother had tailled her, and she found her and dragged her off the horse. While she was going, the wicked stepmother threw the knight a gold coin. He held onto it, and he kept looking at it all the time. He kept thinking about the girl.
He wanted to help her, but he couldn't.

The knight went to the ball, and he was going to kill the prince, but there were too many guards around watching him, so he ran away.

Then the knight went to find the girl and save her. The wicked stepmother grazed him in the neck with an evil spell, but he killed her and all the other guys too, even though he got hurt bad. At first the girl was scared, but then she was free and she was okay. She got to go back home to her real parents. The knight was a hero. All the papers said so.

And everyone lived happily ever after.

..........
..........
..........

Tell me your favorite story.
Voice or video if you can.
The words alone are lonely.

Tell me please.

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...That's like saying that if a mobile suit malfunctions due to specific circumstances, every single unit of that model and the template itself are defective. Would you blame yourself if another you had chosen to become a bank robber at twenty instead?

[Some people would, he knows. But he thinks they shouldn't.]

Would it help if he had pressed charges, or even just left complaints on the precinct's website?

[...

There are no words. Riku's eyes pop wide open, and he averts his gaze, trying and failing to grasp the gravity of the situation. Death is serious business, and to kill a kid's parent? Even worse. Logic dictates that he should be angry at this news, and yet all Riku feels is... numbness with a dash of confusion.

Just knowing that Blake killed somebody hardly paints cohesive picture. It's like pencil lines before the first coat of paint.]

So why'd you do it?

[Yeah, that's about what Blake expects to see.]

It had something to do with thinking he was the serial killer murdering little kids.

All I know is I told my men to stand down. The other me...

Must've been he didn't.

[Blake's voice rises.] I know how fucking close it was!

[The order to fire was right there in his mouth, he can still taste it.]

If I hadn't hesitated for that one goddamn second...

[he trails off and his eyes fall to the mats.

He grunts humorlessly.] If he'd done that I'd still be an asshole, just an asshole out of a job.

Edited 2014-07-18 10:55 (UTC)

_{[She stares unblinkingly back for a moment before speaking.]}

In the four years I've been here, I've gotten combat training from a soldier who was a prisoner of war in Iraq, a Special Ops guy who could knock people out without them ever even knowing he was in the same room, and a weapons expert who'd been fighting wars for thousands of years. In space.

_{[... And then there was that one time she had a lesson with an assassin, but she doesn't really count that. :I]}

And that's just counting what I've had here.

_{[She props her chin on her fist. Her tone is completely dead serious.]}

I've fought bigger and meaner than you, Blake.

And I've won.

But sure.

Save me from your extra half-a-foot and fifty pounds.

[Blake hears her, but hardly listens. Then he stops in mid-swing. What trickles through is the fact that she's not going to go away and leave him to his brooding and self-loathing without a push.

He rounds on her. His voice is soft, and more dangerous than when he's yelling.]

Fine. You wanna go, kid?

[With a jerk of his hand, he gestures toward himself.]

Go ahead. Hit me.

_{[... Yeah, she can kinda tell everything she just said went in one ear and out the other. Oh well. His problem, not hers.]

[He'll never be able to say she hadn't warned him.]

[She doesn't say anything else-- just gets to her feet. Dusts off her knees and the back of her jeans. Takes her time doing it, too. Then she starts to unlace the gloves, seemingly in preparation to pull them on.]

[Halfway through loosening up the first of them, she whirls on her heel without warning. Her fist is already swinging, and it's heading for his jaw. Hard.]}

...And is the kid from a reality where you killed him?

[Because otherwise, how else would he have learned? Something just doesn't stack up in Riku's mind.]

Yeah. First thing when I got here, I saw him. Not long after I first ran into you, matter of fact. He showed up on the screen. Looking at me like I was some kind of monster.

[The hatred and terror on the kid's face, the idiot words in his head making him want to say no kid you don't get it, you got it all wrong, I was saving you.]

He said it real clear.

[Blake breathes in deep. He tilts his head back, and his eyes close. The whispering sound outside could be a car passing by, or it could be rain.]

"You told them to shoot him."

[His eyes open and find the boy's face on the screen, and suddenly there's something desperate in them.]

But I didn't do it. You gotta believe me, it wasn't me.

[The Musharna floats helpfully behind him. All on their own, the keys of the Gear depress in sequence]

s t o p l y i n g

[If he were in his right mind, Blake would be growling at her to hurry up. But a strange patience has fallen over him. Time doesn't mean anything here.

This isn't the first time a girl's taken a swing at him. Blake's been attacked by representatives of every place on the socioeconomic spectrum. Teenage girls can be stronger than they look, especially when they're screaming and pissed off, but what they do is they scratch, bite, and kick.

He sees her move and jerks back by reflex. Instinct tells him the range; in the rare cause a girl like her tries a punch, they're always short and abortive, without any weight or follow-through behind them.

So when her fist cracks audibly across his face, what makes him yell out is surprise as much as pain.

He stumbles back, pressing his hand to what will soon be a hell of a bruise.] What the fuck?!

_{[The punch had fallen a little lower than she'd intended it to, and the smarting on her knuckles is pretty intense. Ouch. But otherwise, she'd done it properly. Thumb outside of the fingers, plenty of follow-through.]

[And she doesn't hesitate before throwing another-- this one at his stomach.]

[She doesn't say a word.]

[She's not fuckin' around anymore.]}

[Well this was a great idea, because Blake's forgotten all about his problems for a moment, since the primary one is now the angry little girl making a surprisingly focused effort to kick his ass. His Hitmonlee hops well out of the way.]

Holy shit!

[The throb in his jaw means his attention is kicked into gear. This one he sees coming and blocks.]

_{[Good, he was able to block. Now Heather doesn't feel... QUITE as bad about doing this.]

[Although there's a certain grim satisfaction in earning a blurted "Holy shit!" from the guy who'd been trying so hard to blow her off, she remains stonefaced as she sidesteps and-- instead of throwing another punch-- kicks out with one leg and stomps her foot down behind one of Blake's, before sweeping it back towards herself, aiming to entangle and knock him off of his feet. Or at least off-balance.]}

[You've got him taking you seriously now, that's for sure.]

Damn it, kid, you made your point! [She doesn't look like she's anywhere near done.] I'm not gonna fuckin' hit you!

[She kicks out and he twists away, and he is just feeling a flash of satisfaction at dodging it when he finds out there's a foot wedged behind him, and he is falling flat on his ass.

How long has he been in here, mindlessly pounding at the pads? When he tries to get up, his muscles do their best to let him know. He falls back with a thud.]

[He shakes his head, looking thoughtful.]

I wouldn't know. Where I'm from isn't so different from where he is.

_{[When he hits the ground, she stands at the ready, waiting for him to rise again-- and when he fails to do so, she lowers her hands to her sides.]

[Stepping over to him (but keeping out of reach-- she's learned the hard way in the past that just because an enemy's down doesn't mean the fight's over), she bends over a little to look him in the eye.]}

Satisfied?

But you did.

[Which is the most important part, in his opinion.]

And you can tell the kid why you hesitated, and maybe someday he'll even think to ask someone why the other you didn't.

[Isn't that the first question people ask themselves in this situation? Why?]

...It's not like you get to do your job right now, anyway.

[Blake catches enough breath to growl at her.] Smug brat.

[He's not going to punch a little girl.

He will, however, reach up and try to shove over a little girl.]

You're from Philadelphia too?

[She has just finished snubbing that out when she finally notices the soft steps on the pads behind her.]

You don't know anything about where I'm from.

[Steve turns and yaps in alarm, then scrambles away.

Blake gazes coldly down at the phone on the floor. His breath is ragged, and sweat marks his face and clothing. His voice grates.]

Who the fuck are you?

[Blake turns away from the screen, and is now pacing in a tight, rapid circuit. His hands are fists by his sides.]

If that damn lady hadn't been there, if he'd so much as fuckin' twitched...

[He stops suddenly. He stares straight at the phone, whites rimming his eyes.]

He'd be dead. He is dead.

[The cold sickness that he's been trying to drive away solidifies in his gut.]

It's one of those stories where there's a hero and a monster. Sometimes the monster wins.

_{[At long last, her mouth curls into a smirk. She steps neatly backwards out of shoving range, clasping her hands behind her back.]}

I know.

[Blake lets the useless action pull him up and flop him into a sitting position. He tosses his arms over his knees. From a few steps away, Steve watches with inscrutable animal eyes.

His jaw aches, his muscles ache, and he is very tired.

He says dully to the mats] Fine, you win, kid.

What do you want?

Just tell me what's up.

That's all.

_{[And don't you dare refuse.]}

[he doesn't even shake his head. Just stares down at the mat.]

You don't want to know.

[Riku opens his mouth to speak, but shuts it once the text appears on the screen. What can he say? In some reality, Blake killed a kid's father. Whether or not it was a misunderstanding, the fact remains that he took a life, no doubt crushing the kid involved. Riku should be mad, seething with disgust. His stomach bubbles and twists into tight knots, and he lowers his gaze, gripping at the front of his shirt.

And then he slowly shakes his head, exhaling through his nose.]

It was and it wasn't. The way I see it, it still happened. In that kid's reality, you killed his dad... but that's just one of the possible outcomes. It's not gonna erase whatever pain he suffered, but at the same time, I don't hate you.

It's... I don't know. I wasn't there. I wasn't that kid, and I sure as heck wasn't you. Can't begin to imagine what was going through your head at the time, but... you said it yourself. It happened differently for you.

So I guess...

[He takes a deep breath, rubbing at one of his temples.]

Just try to be the best you can be while you're here. Take what you've heard and try to move forward... That's all you can really do.

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[17] [Text/Action for Mahogany] - "Whenever You Get Involved, Someone Gets Hurt."

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