622 did a few quick warm-ups before getting ready to move out. He took the sword that had so recently been Armand's, stopping for just a moment to look at it.
No. He didn't have time to think about this. He needed to get out and see what he could do to help. He opened the door to the hallway, sword in one hand, glowrod in the other, scanning the hall.
Scourge quickly assumed Decepticon Innocence Posture #2, holding one hand behind his back and staring up at the ceiling as if to say 'nice plaster you've got here'.
"Oh, hello!" he called, far too quickly and far too cheerfully. Calling attention to himself was part of the posture, no one really interested in sneaking would want to do that and therefore he obviously hadn't been sneaking.
622 turned to point the light from his glowrod at the source of the voice. Fierfek. He hadn't heard the man's footsteps coming.
He really had to commend the guy, that was the most stereotypical and nearly hilarious attempt at looking harmless that he'd seen in quite a while. "Are you in need of assistance, sir?" He said, keeping polite for the moment. If the man ended up doing anything out of line, he'd get introduced to 622's foot in an extremely unpleasant manner.
"Hm? Me?" Scourge shook his head. "No, no, just waiting for a friend. I think he's supposed to be up here, anyway." He made a show of scanning the area, thankfully without putting his hand up over his eyes.
Just in case, the grip on his sword tightened almost imperceptibly. The other guy had a sword and he probably knew even better how to use it, but he was burdened with the flashlight and Scourge had the better of him in the dark.
Sure. He believed that. Just like he believed a Hutt would win a Twi'lek beauty pageant. "I think you need to work on your lies. Or at least your act, because it's really fekking terrible." His expression had hardened to almost a scowl. "So why don't you give me the truth, or at least a better lie."
"I was!" Scourge insisted, acting offended. The guy was on to him, and he knew Scourge knew he was on to him, but maybe he didn't know exactly what he was on to. If that made sense.
"I'm looking for Piper. He's got red hair and a fluffy...beard fluff thing." Scourge made a scratching motion at his chin, to indicate Piper's goatee.
"Sure." He wasn't buying it. He had no reason to. "That isn't worth playing stupidly innocent over." He'd been hoping to help people tonight, but he supposed keeping some idiot from stealing their things was just as important.
"Right. Why don't you leave the cell block. Your friend can still find you, and you won't steal anything while you wait," 622 'suggested', voice cold. He was a Stormtrooper, not a droid. The petulant stuff wasn't going to make him any less convinced that this one wasn't up to any good.
"Who says I was stealing anything? I was just standing here! Doing nothing!" Which was also true.
Still, Scourge, shifted his weight and watched the human nervously, ready to run if need be. Whatever was in those rooms, there was probably something just as useful in another set unguarded by menacing humans.
"You, practically." He took a step closer, face still set in a cold expression. "I'm a soldier, not an idiot." If this man didn't start moving, he was going to take this up a setting or two.
And Scourge took a step back, his sword sliding down from his shoulder into a fighting position obviously implemented by someone going off of what he's seen rather than what he's done. "So am I!" he insisted, even if his whole stance was shaky.
Really? Then he wasn't one that had been taught any CQC. That was one hell of an oversight. And now that the man was pointing that sword at him, he wasn't going to just stand around and be polite anymore.
622 stepped in quick, angling his glowrod in one hand to keep the light in the other man's eyes while giving the idiot's sword a hard blow with the broad side of his own. He didn't want to dull or chip the blade if he didn't have to. Once that was done, he jammed his forearm under the man's throat and pushed him back against the wall. It wasn't the best hold, but he kept the pressure on and lifted up slightly under the man's chin. "You were saying?"
Scourge croaked helplessly against the human's arm, struggling for breath under the pressure. He couldn't breathe, he was going to die with his throat closed off like this, he was going to die at the hands of a human!
After a few seconds Scourge realized he wasn't actually dying and made an attempt to regain some few molecules of his dignity. "Wasn't doing anything," he rasped, one hand futily pawing at his captor's chest. He drew in a pained breath and continued with, "Lemme go. Didn't do anything."
Why did he keep getting into these situations? It was never his fault and yet people kept picking on him.
"Sure. That's why you pointed a weapon at me. I don't suppose soldiers are given brains as part of their standard kit where you come from, do they." Why did this man have long nails? It couldn't do much damage, not if he was an average human. It certainly wasn't doing much to him.
"Now, are you going to leave or am I going to have to escalate this?"
No. He didn't have time to think about this. He needed to get out and see what he could do to help. He opened the door to the hallway, sword in one hand, glowrod in the other, scanning the hall.
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Sneaksneak--slag. He'd missed one.
Scourge quickly assumed Decepticon Innocence Posture #2, holding one hand behind his back and staring up at the ceiling as if to say 'nice plaster you've got here'.
"Oh, hello!" he called, far too quickly and far too cheerfully. Calling attention to himself was part of the posture, no one really interested in sneaking would want to do that and therefore he obviously hadn't been sneaking.
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He really had to commend the guy, that was the most stereotypical and nearly hilarious attempt at looking harmless that he'd seen in quite a while. "Are you in need of assistance, sir?" He said, keeping polite for the moment. If the man ended up doing anything out of line, he'd get introduced to 622's foot in an extremely unpleasant manner.
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Just in case, the grip on his sword tightened almost imperceptibly. The other guy had a sword and he probably knew even better how to use it, but he was burdened with the flashlight and Scourge had the better of him in the dark.
That and a slight head start.
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"I'm looking for Piper. He's got red hair and a fluffy...beard fluff thing." Scourge made a scratching motion at his chin, to indicate Piper's goatee.
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"It is too!" he insisted firmly, sticking to his guns. When in doubt, insist harder.
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Still, Scourge, shifted his weight and watched the human nervously, ready to run if need be. Whatever was in those rooms, there was probably something just as useful in another set unguarded by menacing humans.
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622 stepped in quick, angling his glowrod in one hand to keep the light in the other man's eyes while giving the idiot's sword a hard blow with the broad side of his own. He didn't want to dull or chip the blade if he didn't have to. Once that was done, he jammed his forearm under the man's throat and pushed him back against the wall. It wasn't the best hold, but he kept the pressure on and lifted up slightly under the man's chin. "You were saying?"
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After a few seconds Scourge realized he wasn't actually dying and made an attempt to regain some few molecules of his dignity. "Wasn't doing anything," he rasped, one hand futily pawing at his captor's chest. He drew in a pained breath and continued with, "Lemme go. Didn't do anything."
Why did he keep getting into these situations? It was never his fault and yet people kept picking on him.
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"Now, are you going to leave or am I going to have to escalate this?"
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Scourge squirmed helplessly against the wall, trying to find some way of writhing out. This he definitely remembered from home. And didn't like.
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