[July] badcompany_muse
True and False
Little-well, not so little-known fact about X5s: they will kick your ass if you sneak up on them. You know the way your domestic house cat will bolt if they hear a sudden noise behind them, probably claw you to death if you try and calm them down? Same reaction if you sneak up on someone with a bit of kitty in the cocktail, except probably a lot more painful. They were trained to be super soldiers, after all-ever on guard, ever watching for someone to try and get the jump on them.
And if someone did get the jump on them, they were trained to kick their ass eight ways to Sunday. More or less.
However, an assumption that’s made that’s not quite so true-just because they’re genetically enhanced, specially trained super soldiers, does not mean they don’t screw up. Especially when it comes to human interaction. They weren’t stiff, rigid army boys-or girls, as the case may be. They were human. They were trained to blend in and get along with the rest of the world. Also, partially due to the way they were raised, they wanted to be normal. They just wanted to fit in, so if there was pleasant human interaction to be had, they would be having it. Mickey, in particular, was a bit of a junkie for it. He loved the face-to-face interactions, watching them process what you were saying before coming back with some kind of a response. Sometimes the response was typical, sometimes it was disappointing, sometimes it was something you, yourself, never even would have thought of.
If the person in question also happens to have a pretty face, well that’s just a bonus.
New York happened to be full of those people. People with interesting facial expressions and attitudes, and learning to be one of them was one of those things at usually fell in along with the words ‘easier said than done’ but Mickey wasn’t really one of those people who stopped because things weren’t easy. He had an accent to lose and some mannerisms to pick up, and what better place to learn it than in you’re local hole in the wall kind of bar. They say it’s easier to learn to speak properly than it is to learn to speak improperly, so Mickey tended to like to start at the top and refine as he went. He wanted to blend in, after all. He didn’t want to sound too perfect.
So he was currently studying the mannerisms and wording of a particularly beautiful patron of this fine establishment, when he heard the slam of footsteps coming up behind him. The girl’s eyes went wide, and by the time the drunk sap’s hand landed on his shoulder, Mickey was anticipating him, trying to predict what possible moves he could make. Odds are he was drunk, and all it would take a quick twist of the wrist and he would be able to maneuver him easily into the bar and keep him from getting back up again. He would knock him out quickly, then continue to carry on with his conversation with the lovely New Yorker in front of him.
However, when the guy actually did grab him, he was smaller than Mickey had anticipated. Small and skinny actually. Spun around pretty easily, and when his head hit the bar, he’s surprised that the guy didn’t crack in half. Skinny and slim slumped down against the bar, and Mickey let go of him almost instantly.
“Sorry, mate-shouldn’t sneak up on people like that.”
True: X5s, whatever breed you happen to find them, are rather paranoid creatures. They’re constantly looking over their shoulder to make sure that no one was coming up behind them to try and protect themselves.
Also true: when distracted, their peripheral vision can get a little blurry. The kind of blurry that comes with not seeing with the fist of said pretty New Yorker is coming at you, and the fact that she has a mean right hook.
He felt the crunch of her ring against his eye bone, and hissed in pain, stumbling backwards and giving her a look. “What the hell?”
“Don’t treat my boyfriend like that, you sonuvabitch!” she growled, starting to advance on him again. He held up his hands and started scrambling away from her, trying to get himself as far as possible from the woman who was advancing on him.
In the end, she took a few more swings at him before she’d pushed him out the door of the bar and back onto the streets of the city. The scrape from her ring just under his eye was bleeding, and he reached up to swipe some of the blood away, sighing heavily and making his way back to the hotel. By the time he’d wandered into the room, the bleeding had stopped, but he could tell that the cut was still pretty open.
When he caught Ryan’s eye over the edge of the sofa, he gave her a slight grin, before gesturing to the cut on his face and pulling out his best, freshly tuned bit of New Yorker.
“You think this is bad, you should see the otha guy.”
877 words
RP for xr5_365
Little-well, not so little-known fact about X5s: they will kick your ass if you sneak up on them. You know the way your domestic house cat will bolt if they hear a sudden noise behind them, probably claw you to death if you try and calm them down? Same reaction if you sneak up on someone with a bit of kitty in the cocktail, except probably a lot more painful. They were trained to be super soldiers, after all-ever on guard, ever watching for someone to try and get the jump on them.
And if someone did get the jump on them, they were trained to kick their ass eight ways to Sunday. More or less.
However, an assumption that’s made that’s not quite so true-just because they’re genetically enhanced, specially trained super soldiers, does not mean they don’t screw up. Especially when it comes to human interaction. They weren’t stiff, rigid army boys-or girls, as the case may be. They were human. They were trained to blend in and get along with the rest of the world. Also, partially due to the way they were raised, they wanted to be normal. They just wanted to fit in, so if there was pleasant human interaction to be had, they would be having it. Mickey, in particular, was a bit of a junkie for it. He loved the face-to-face interactions, watching them process what you were saying before coming back with some kind of a response. Sometimes the response was typical, sometimes it was disappointing, sometimes it was something you, yourself, never even would have thought of.
If the person in question also happens to have a pretty face, well that’s just a bonus.
New York happened to be full of those people. People with interesting facial expressions and attitudes, and learning to be one of them was one of those things at usually fell in along with the words ‘easier said than done’ but Mickey wasn’t really one of those people who stopped because things weren’t easy. He had an accent to lose and some mannerisms to pick up, and what better place to learn it than in you’re local hole in the wall kind of bar. They say it’s easier to learn to speak properly than it is to learn to speak improperly, so Mickey tended to like to start at the top and refine as he went. He wanted to blend in, after all. He didn’t want to sound too perfect.
So he was currently studying the mannerisms and wording of a particularly beautiful patron of this fine establishment, when he heard the slam of footsteps coming up behind him. The girl’s eyes went wide, and by the time the drunk sap’s hand landed on his shoulder, Mickey was anticipating him, trying to predict what possible moves he could make. Odds are he was drunk, and all it would take a quick twist of the wrist and he would be able to maneuver him easily into the bar and keep him from getting back up again. He would knock him out quickly, then continue to carry on with his conversation with the lovely New Yorker in front of him.
However, when the guy actually did grab him, he was smaller than Mickey had anticipated. Small and skinny actually. Spun around pretty easily, and when his head hit the bar, he’s surprised that the guy didn’t crack in half. Skinny and slim slumped down against the bar, and Mickey let go of him almost instantly.
“Sorry, mate-shouldn’t sneak up on people like that.”
True: X5s, whatever breed you happen to find them, are rather paranoid creatures. They’re constantly looking over their shoulder to make sure that no one was coming up behind them to try and protect themselves.
Also true: when distracted, their peripheral vision can get a little blurry. The kind of blurry that comes with not seeing with the fist of said pretty New Yorker is coming at you, and the fact that she has a mean right hook.
He felt the crunch of her ring against his eye bone, and hissed in pain, stumbling backwards and giving her a look. “What the hell?”
“Don’t treat my boyfriend like that, you sonuvabitch!” she growled, starting to advance on him again. He held up his hands and started scrambling away from her, trying to get himself as far as possible from the woman who was advancing on him.
In the end, she took a few more swings at him before she’d pushed him out the door of the bar and back onto the streets of the city. The scrape from her ring just under his eye was bleeding, and he reached up to swipe some of the blood away, sighing heavily and making his way back to the hotel. By the time he’d wandered into the room, the bleeding had stopped, but he could tell that the cut was still pretty open.
When he caught Ryan’s eye over the edge of the sofa, he gave her a slight grin, before gesturing to the cut on his face and pulling out his best, freshly tuned bit of New Yorker.
“You think this is bad, you should see the otha guy.”
877 words
RP for xr5_365