The Consequences
I try to catch them right on the tip of his nose, because I try to punch the bone into the brain. ~Mike Tyson
OOC Date: March 4, 2010
IC Date: Day 12, month 2, turn 22 of Interval 10.
Who: Gabrion, W'chek
Where: Lake Shore, High Reaches Weyr
Gabe's chickens finally come home to roost when W'chek punches him in the face for meddling in his plans with Madilla.
If W'chek is too busy to have done much visiting with Madilla of late prior to that eventful afternoon, he's certainly too busy to have the time to stop in just to shoot the breeze with a stature-impaired candidate who can't quite be called a friend. But still, this evening, some busybody girl had the message: Some bronzerider guy? Out by the lake? Says his dragon's feeding? Doesn't want to come in? Wants to say hello? Lots of uptilted sentences. And there, indeed, he is, wandering along the damp, cold lake shore, hands in pockets. Thankfully it's stopped raining. The breeze is cold but not bone-chilling.
It's been a while since Gabe had his fateful conversation with Madilla, and nobody's bothered to inform him of all the resulting fallout. By now, he's assumed she didn't pay any attention to him. Besides, he knows at least two bronzeriders. Curious, he heads out to the lake at a rapid pace, not wanting to keep whoever-it-is waiting. On seeing W'chek, he looks faintly surprised, perhaps even a bit pleased that W'chek actually showed enough interest in him to summon him, a little bit guarded - he never can decide quite how to respond to W'chek's presence, and today is no different. "Hi," he greets, pleasant enough.
Maybe W'chek doesn't look positively overjoyed, but the expression on his face as Gabrion draws closer is really no more than the usual faintly displeased look, the slightly furrowed brow and faintly narrowed eyes that one should just generally associated with W'chek being himself. He doesn't extract his hands from his pockets, but he does try for a smile that comes out wolfish. "Gabe. Wasn't sure how busy you'd be."
"Oh, you know," Gabe says, and shrugs. "Since I'm standing and all, they're not making me work late these days. So I'm not that busy. Not after dinner anyway. Uh - how are you? And Zhikath?" he adds, for politeness' sake, not that he has any real acquaintance with W'chek's bronze.
Shoulders lift without actually moving his hands, and W'chek says, "There are other kinds of busy besides work." He takes a couple steps, closes the distance between them to something comfortable but not personal-space-invading. "Guess really what I am is confused. 'Cause really, y'know, I thought we were cool, you and me. Was I wrong about that?"
"Yeah, I guess so," Gabe agrees, about busy-types, not sure where this is going. He pauses for a long moment before answering the question, cautiously. "Sure. No, we're - fine, I mean.... why not?" He has an inkling why not, of course, but he plays dumb.
One hand finally emerges, fingers clenching and unclenching twice, and W'chek goes to clap his arm around Gabe's back, and already there's something about it which is not friendly and likely to be unsettling. "Maybe I'm not the greatest person alive. I'll be the first to admit that. But here I coulda sworn we were cool, maybe even getting to be friends."
Gabrion flinches and stiffens, definitely on edge. At the same time, there's really no graceful exit. "Yeah... kind of?" he mumbles. "Friends. Sure." He doesn't add 'whatever' but it's clear that he's just agreeing, not out of any sense of accord but to avoid escalating things.
The rider goes on smoothly from there, not seeming to expect anything more than that. "Friends. Terrific. So now you're going to tell me why you, my very good friend, told the woman who was going to bear my child, who meant more to me than *air*, that I am a complete and utter monster who beats his loved ones." W'chek may be paraphrasing here, slightly. The position of that arm becomes more clear as fingers tighten; he's not letting Gabe go easily.
Gabrion sets his jaw, and the look on his face is distinctly stubborn - though there's fear there, too. His eyes dart to one side and the other, to see if there's anyone around. This is the part where Gabe should say something clever to get himself out of W'chek's grip, something placating, maybe, anything - but nothing comes to mind, so he just stands there, teeth gritted together, silent.
Lousy day like this, there's a reason they're standing by the lake. It's not exactly popular territory. Granted, it could also be symbolic somehow, but it's mostly just nearly deserted. "I can be a monster if you want me to be a monster, Gabe," W'chek says, voice still calm. "But if you tell me why, you're going to walk back in there with more teeth."
"If you -" it comes out as more of a squeak than anything else, and Gabe has to start again, his voice trembling in fear, but clear enough all the same. "If you hit me, I'll tell her, and she'll know I was telling the truth."
Eyes narrow further as W'chek looks down at Gabe. "I realize that trying to treat you like a man in this situation is borderline, but I didn't think I had to treat you like a *weasel*." Eyes close for a moment. Deep breath. "Doesn't matter. So you'd rather leave this a mystery, then? Pretend we're good, ruin my life, leave me to wonder?"
"If you hit me," Gabe repeats, less trembly this time, "I'll tell her, and she'll know I was telling the truth." A pause, and then he adds, "It's only fair she knows before she has a baby with you. You can't un-have a baby."
"Doesn't *matter*," W'chek repeats, an edge entering his voice at last, a sort of irritation, more annoyance than anger. He's also pointedly not denying anything. No point, perhaps, without knowing who might have heard or known about what happened. "She's seeing someone." No more detail than that really necessary, is there? He moves his hand only enough to take hold of Gabrion's collar, then aims a blow square for his nose. At least it's not the mouth.
Gabrion really thought his threat would protect him: he doesn't see the blow coming until it's far too late to do anything about it. The punch rocks him back and he shrieks in pain; his hands go up to his face as his nose spurts blood - probably broken. He lurches sideways, trying to get out of W'chek's grasp and away.
The bronzerider shakes out his hand afterwards, only too easily lets go. W'chek stands still, makes no move to follow. Whatever he wanted out of this, that has satisfied it. "Consequences. There are always consequences. Time you learned."
Gabrion staggers away, clutching his face with both hands, blood leaking between his fingers, sobbing and wailing in pain. "By dose! By dose! Owwwww!" From a dozen paces away, he half-turns to curse W'chek in pain and fear and anger. "Fug you," he spits. "Fug you ad your bother and your sisters ad fug you id the EAR!" With that parting shot, he turns to leave, as hastily as he can while hunched over and holding his face so that it doesn't come apart.
There could be smart retorts for that, but instead W'chek just stands there watching as Gabrion rushes off, smirking to nobody, shoving his hands back into his pockets after a moment. So, so satisfied. Even if there will be consequences.
OOC Date: March 4, 2010
IC Date: Day 12, month 2, turn 22 of Interval 10.
Who: Gabrion, W'chek
Where: Lake Shore, High Reaches Weyr
Gabe's chickens finally come home to roost when W'chek punches him in the face for meddling in his plans with Madilla.
If W'chek is too busy to have done much visiting with Madilla of late prior to that eventful afternoon, he's certainly too busy to have the time to stop in just to shoot the breeze with a stature-impaired candidate who can't quite be called a friend. But still, this evening, some busybody girl had the message: Some bronzerider guy? Out by the lake? Says his dragon's feeding? Doesn't want to come in? Wants to say hello? Lots of uptilted sentences. And there, indeed, he is, wandering along the damp, cold lake shore, hands in pockets. Thankfully it's stopped raining. The breeze is cold but not bone-chilling.
It's been a while since Gabe had his fateful conversation with Madilla, and nobody's bothered to inform him of all the resulting fallout. By now, he's assumed she didn't pay any attention to him. Besides, he knows at least two bronzeriders. Curious, he heads out to the lake at a rapid pace, not wanting to keep whoever-it-is waiting. On seeing W'chek, he looks faintly surprised, perhaps even a bit pleased that W'chek actually showed enough interest in him to summon him, a little bit guarded - he never can decide quite how to respond to W'chek's presence, and today is no different. "Hi," he greets, pleasant enough.
Maybe W'chek doesn't look positively overjoyed, but the expression on his face as Gabrion draws closer is really no more than the usual faintly displeased look, the slightly furrowed brow and faintly narrowed eyes that one should just generally associated with W'chek being himself. He doesn't extract his hands from his pockets, but he does try for a smile that comes out wolfish. "Gabe. Wasn't sure how busy you'd be."
"Oh, you know," Gabe says, and shrugs. "Since I'm standing and all, they're not making me work late these days. So I'm not that busy. Not after dinner anyway. Uh - how are you? And Zhikath?" he adds, for politeness' sake, not that he has any real acquaintance with W'chek's bronze.
Shoulders lift without actually moving his hands, and W'chek says, "There are other kinds of busy besides work." He takes a couple steps, closes the distance between them to something comfortable but not personal-space-invading. "Guess really what I am is confused. 'Cause really, y'know, I thought we were cool, you and me. Was I wrong about that?"
"Yeah, I guess so," Gabe agrees, about busy-types, not sure where this is going. He pauses for a long moment before answering the question, cautiously. "Sure. No, we're - fine, I mean.... why not?" He has an inkling why not, of course, but he plays dumb.
One hand finally emerges, fingers clenching and unclenching twice, and W'chek goes to clap his arm around Gabe's back, and already there's something about it which is not friendly and likely to be unsettling. "Maybe I'm not the greatest person alive. I'll be the first to admit that. But here I coulda sworn we were cool, maybe even getting to be friends."
Gabrion flinches and stiffens, definitely on edge. At the same time, there's really no graceful exit. "Yeah... kind of?" he mumbles. "Friends. Sure." He doesn't add 'whatever' but it's clear that he's just agreeing, not out of any sense of accord but to avoid escalating things.
The rider goes on smoothly from there, not seeming to expect anything more than that. "Friends. Terrific. So now you're going to tell me why you, my very good friend, told the woman who was going to bear my child, who meant more to me than *air*, that I am a complete and utter monster who beats his loved ones." W'chek may be paraphrasing here, slightly. The position of that arm becomes more clear as fingers tighten; he's not letting Gabe go easily.
Gabrion sets his jaw, and the look on his face is distinctly stubborn - though there's fear there, too. His eyes dart to one side and the other, to see if there's anyone around. This is the part where Gabe should say something clever to get himself out of W'chek's grip, something placating, maybe, anything - but nothing comes to mind, so he just stands there, teeth gritted together, silent.
Lousy day like this, there's a reason they're standing by the lake. It's not exactly popular territory. Granted, it could also be symbolic somehow, but it's mostly just nearly deserted. "I can be a monster if you want me to be a monster, Gabe," W'chek says, voice still calm. "But if you tell me why, you're going to walk back in there with more teeth."
"If you -" it comes out as more of a squeak than anything else, and Gabe has to start again, his voice trembling in fear, but clear enough all the same. "If you hit me, I'll tell her, and she'll know I was telling the truth."
Eyes narrow further as W'chek looks down at Gabe. "I realize that trying to treat you like a man in this situation is borderline, but I didn't think I had to treat you like a *weasel*." Eyes close for a moment. Deep breath. "Doesn't matter. So you'd rather leave this a mystery, then? Pretend we're good, ruin my life, leave me to wonder?"
"If you hit me," Gabe repeats, less trembly this time, "I'll tell her, and she'll know I was telling the truth." A pause, and then he adds, "It's only fair she knows before she has a baby with you. You can't un-have a baby."
"Doesn't *matter*," W'chek repeats, an edge entering his voice at last, a sort of irritation, more annoyance than anger. He's also pointedly not denying anything. No point, perhaps, without knowing who might have heard or known about what happened. "She's seeing someone." No more detail than that really necessary, is there? He moves his hand only enough to take hold of Gabrion's collar, then aims a blow square for his nose. At least it's not the mouth.
Gabrion really thought his threat would protect him: he doesn't see the blow coming until it's far too late to do anything about it. The punch rocks him back and he shrieks in pain; his hands go up to his face as his nose spurts blood - probably broken. He lurches sideways, trying to get out of W'chek's grasp and away.
The bronzerider shakes out his hand afterwards, only too easily lets go. W'chek stands still, makes no move to follow. Whatever he wanted out of this, that has satisfied it. "Consequences. There are always consequences. Time you learned."
Gabrion staggers away, clutching his face with both hands, blood leaking between his fingers, sobbing and wailing in pain. "By dose! By dose! Owwwww!" From a dozen paces away, he half-turns to curse W'chek in pain and fear and anger. "Fug you," he spits. "Fug you ad your bother and your sisters ad fug you id the EAR!" With that parting shot, he turns to leave, as hastily as he can while hunched over and holding his face so that it doesn't come apart.
There could be smart retorts for that, but instead W'chek just stands there watching as Gabrion rushes off, smirking to nobody, shoving his hands back into his pockets after a moment. So, so satisfied. Even if there will be consequences.