[closed/complete]
Characters: Agravaine [nevermercy] & Galahad [galahad]
Date/Time: Friday, around 6pm.
Location: Central Park
Rating: R
Warnings: Language and violence.
Summary: Apparently, Galahad is a sucker when it comes to Percival's well-being and honor. Which ends with him landing in the hospital with more than a bruised jaw.
By the time Agravaine had managed to get himself to Central Park, night had already fallen. The dark hit fast after four o'clock, when most of the light began to fade out of the sky, leaving random streaks of orange and red where the sun was dropping off into the horizon. If he was a romantic, he might've considered it a sight worth sticking around for.
He hadn't realized he was fifteen minutes earlier than intended, but if he hadn't been and Galahad had to wait, he'd fucking wait. Puffing at a cigarette, the former knight kicked the snow off the brass engravings around the metal sculpture, each of them reciting a snippet of the Alice tale. The other man might not have realized just how intentionally he'd picked this landmark, but it made sense to him. Alice, caught in a strange and enchanting world where nothing anyone said made sense.
At least she was smart enough to ask questions instead of denying everything.
Eventually he grew tired of trying to read the writing, and stepped up onto the mushrooms, wondering if Galahad was the sort of person to show up early or late. Judging from how pretentious he was, Agravaine figured almost-early, or annoyingly on time.
Today he was going to be annoyingly on time, because he had taken time to put his notes away and do a few things before heading out to meet Agravaine. Hayden, for one, was not thinking the other was serious about fighting (but then these people were nutters so who knew?) but he was not afraid. He felt honor-bound to show up.
For Percival- Wesley (who really needed to stop thinking of him as Galahad, it was annoying).
Puffing away at his own cigarette, he stepped up to the statue, watching his 'date' standing. Automatically, Galahad narrowed his eyes then tossed the remains of his cancer stick aside. "Did not think you were the early type."
The older man remained up on his brass platform, watching Galahad through the combination of smoke and condensation. His look was condescending at worst, and disinterested at best, but one thing was for sure: Agravaine figured the cards were playing into his hands here. He felt in control. And looking the other up and down, he felt even moreso.
"Really? Because I'm so interested to hear what type of person you think I am," he shot back rather snidely, taking a step off the first mushroom but not off the structure. Height wasn't something he required to stare the other knight down, though it did help him feel more authoritative.
The look Agravaine received was plain disinterested on Hayden's part, and sort of pitying on Galahad's side. The Grail knight was nowhere near as perfect as people believed him to be, but hate was not something he was often acquainted with. "Fine. I'm here, like we agreed. Now you stay away from Wesley. Or Percival, whatever he wants to call himself." If Wesley wanted to play with the crazies that was just fine, as long as he did not hurt.
Galahad shifted his hands into his pocket, looking slightly up at Agravaine. If he felt more authoritative, the fact went over Hayden's head, he just wanted this little waste of time to end. Soon.
Oh. Oh, this was too good.
A laugh rang out, scornful and arrogant to the last note. "You are some fucking piece of work, did you know that?" This time, Agravaine hopped down to ground level, not caring to toss his cigarette just yet. "I thought you were an idiot before, but now you've really managed to sell me."
The next few steps brought them within three feet of each other, making their few inches of height difference a touch more obvious, but not too much. He tilted his head on an angle, narrowing his eyes in the dark.
"I don't think I'll be staying away. Try again."
"I don't particularly care what you think of me." Galahad replied truthfully and without malice (certainly could be interpreted as a higher kind of confidence... or arrogance). He kept his eyes on Agravaine's face, "What I don't understand is how all of you are so comfortable with this concept of being gods or whatever." It creeped him out.
While Hayden had been keeping an impassive expression on his face, it slowly changed into a frown, "Leave him alone, I don't care what your issues are, but leave Wesley out of it."
As he spoke, Agravaine took a long drag from his cigarette, and casually exhaled the smoke into Galahad's face once he'd finished, almost like he wasn't there at all. "He is my issue, dipshit. And his name is Percival, which you'd remember if you weren't so thick."
So far, the animosity had yet to show its ugly face, but it was there, bubbling under the surface. It wouldn't be long before his patience would run out, and the next thing he'd be offering was punches, not words. Did this guy really have no clue? It was pathetic.
The frown turned into a scowl, "No, he is not, and you're going to stay away from him." Galahad stated - not caring how possessive or annoyed or whatever he sounded. For him, Agravine was an unreasonable man and he did not want him close to Percival. "And you're all crazy, but you're going to stay away from my crazy."
The threat was clearly in his voice now, and a glare was present. And while Galahad could have taken on Agravaine and come out on top, Hayden could not. (A fact that Galahad's side had yet to catch up with.)
Yet. The operative word of the evening.
Agravaine gave him the same condescending look he'd offered earlier, and tossed the cigarette stub down at the snow, crossing that small expanse of ground to stand almost less than a foot away from the smaller knight. He was tired of listening to words and empty threats. A need for something more had him leaning in, without a care for personal space.
"Or what?" he whispered, breath condensing in the cool air ever so slightly.
"I think you know what." Galahad replied though he did move back a little - not fear, just repulsion at the invasion of personal space- especially from anyone who was not Percival. "Don't think there are no legal repercussions for threatening someone." Hayden was going with logic here, not knight logic.
There was a small stretch of silence where Agravaine said nothing, only watched him like he'd said the magic word. And maybe he had, but Galahad wouldn't get to find out. Whatever was left of his patience had completely worn away, leaving behind the irritation that'd slowly been building up.
Evidently, it was time to forget about words and talk with his hands. What was it that his brother had said? 'A kiss with his fist'. With the speed of someone who was far too practised at slugging people, the taller man reeled back a fast fist and directed it right into Galahad's face. No particular part of it, just the whole of it. He was tired of talking.
And this was a much more effective method of communication, he found.
Galahad had not seen that coming, and though his reflexes were rather good and he did manage to move it was not enough to take him out of harm's way. The fist collided with his jaw and he tasted blood. Ow. That had hurt. The blow had him reeling back for a moment before he let out a snarl and tackled Agravaine head-on.
Hey, he hadn't started this. Violence did seem to be how these knights communicated, from Lancelot waving a metal rod in his face, to Agravaine punching him. Something that Hayden did not appreciate, but while he was not experienced at fighting, there was strength behind that tackle and certainly any blows that came after.
The snow was cold and the ground was hard when Agravaine's back impacted with it, but with a growl he was quick to retaliate, reversing their positions with some difficulty, because while Galahad was shorter, he was not as easy a target as he looked.
Honestly, he had no fight with the grail knight. He just happened to piss him off, and not only was the man in denial of himself, but also his ridiculous love affair -- or whatever the hell it was -- with Percival. Then again, Agravaine never needed a good reason to lash out at someone -- it was the way he seemed to function, with violence and arrogance, and everything that wasn't nice.
Apparently it was a trait most of Morgause's children shared. Except for Gareth, the fucking goody two-shoes.
Galahad knew he was hitting and reciving blows back (because his body kept screaming in protest when Agravaine hit) and the snow was certainly cold. His back pressed against the snow, he lashed out with his fists trying to gain the upper hand. Of course considering Agravaine's size it was not easy, and this was more about brute strength than fighting finesse.
Hayden would not be here for anyone else, though some part of him felt more than ridiculous defending a man he barely knew (and he thought lusting after Wesley, if it was lust, was not reason enough to do this).
This whole thing was not going to end well, not for Galahad anyway.
The knuckles of Agravaine's left hand caught Galahad's already bruising jaw before soon finding their way into the collar of his jacket, yanking him closer. Snow decorated their clothes like they'd just tipped into a snowbank, but he didn't care about appearances for the moment -- this was about shaking some sense into a moron.
"You're just as psycho as the rest of us, Galahad," he hissed, practically spitting venom as he did so. To be perfectly honest, being referred to as insane wasn't something he appreciated. And after all, with so many people claiming to be mythological icons, maybe it was Hayden who was crazy. Not them.
"Shut up." Hayden snapped back before shoving his hand into Agravaine's eyes trying to blind him enough to get out from beneath him. This was not an ideal position for the Grail Knight, and neither was the taste of blood in his mouth or the fact he was certain a lot of him was going to be bruised come tomorrow.
If he only knew how much.
The attempt was successful for a whole three seconds, after which the elder knight yanked that wrist away and pinned it into the cold snow. He gripped hard enough to bruise, those bones digging into the flesh of his fingers. "How much--" Agravaine broke off to reach for the other wrist. "--do you think Percival would fight back? Think he's a slapper?"
The thought entertained him as he tried to flatten Galahad down into the ground, wanting him still and not flailing around like a fucking drowning man. He had to give him some credit, though -- he could smell and feel the blood trickling from his nose, where the little shit's accidental fist had caught him. Pathetic as he was, he wasn't a pushover.
And that was about the only thing he liked about him.
And of course the mention of Percival had Galahad seething, "Don't. fucking. touch him." he snarled. Maybe he had no idea what he was doing (maybe he knew exactly what he was doing) and it was not a bright idea to bring his head up trying to smash it against Agravaine's.
It was going to hurt and he was going to see stars (and probably piss off the other more). However the threat to Wesley made his instinct to fight and claw and kick and anything. Who the hell needed professional fighting then? Ha.
Unprepared for that particular move, Agravaine recoiled when their foreheads collided, biting out a loud 'fuck' when his eyesight swam in vicious circles. His vision had yet to fully return before he wrestled with the other man just enough to shove his face into the wet snow. He was already growing short on the topic of Percival.
"Or what? Or what? You'll fucking fight me again, tough guy? Learn to throw a goddamned decent punch before you start ordering me around, you moronic fuck." The former knight released him, then, as though suddenly sickened by the feel of him.
Being released had Galahad taking advantage of that moment, he was not going to stop what he was doing until Percival was safe. That was the right thing to do, it could be nothing less. He could not lose the other knight, Galahad would not. Nor leave him to get hurt.
Whatever happened next is a bit hazy in Hayden's memory, he remembered Agravaine, the cold and then his head smashing hard on the ice. There was the sound of sirens in the distance, and just white.
Date/Time: Friday, around 6pm.
Location: Central Park
Rating: R
Warnings: Language and violence.
Summary: Apparently, Galahad is a sucker when it comes to Percival's well-being and honor. Which ends with him landing in the hospital with more than a bruised jaw.
By the time Agravaine had managed to get himself to Central Park, night had already fallen. The dark hit fast after four o'clock, when most of the light began to fade out of the sky, leaving random streaks of orange and red where the sun was dropping off into the horizon. If he was a romantic, he might've considered it a sight worth sticking around for.
He hadn't realized he was fifteen minutes earlier than intended, but if he hadn't been and Galahad had to wait, he'd fucking wait. Puffing at a cigarette, the former knight kicked the snow off the brass engravings around the metal sculpture, each of them reciting a snippet of the Alice tale. The other man might not have realized just how intentionally he'd picked this landmark, but it made sense to him. Alice, caught in a strange and enchanting world where nothing anyone said made sense.
At least she was smart enough to ask questions instead of denying everything.
Eventually he grew tired of trying to read the writing, and stepped up onto the mushrooms, wondering if Galahad was the sort of person to show up early or late. Judging from how pretentious he was, Agravaine figured almost-early, or annoyingly on time.
Today he was going to be annoyingly on time, because he had taken time to put his notes away and do a few things before heading out to meet Agravaine. Hayden, for one, was not thinking the other was serious about fighting (but then these people were nutters so who knew?) but he was not afraid. He felt honor-bound to show up.
For Percival- Wesley (who really needed to stop thinking of him as Galahad, it was annoying).
Puffing away at his own cigarette, he stepped up to the statue, watching his 'date' standing. Automatically, Galahad narrowed his eyes then tossed the remains of his cancer stick aside. "Did not think you were the early type."
The older man remained up on his brass platform, watching Galahad through the combination of smoke and condensation. His look was condescending at worst, and disinterested at best, but one thing was for sure: Agravaine figured the cards were playing into his hands here. He felt in control. And looking the other up and down, he felt even moreso.
"Really? Because I'm so interested to hear what type of person you think I am," he shot back rather snidely, taking a step off the first mushroom but not off the structure. Height wasn't something he required to stare the other knight down, though it did help him feel more authoritative.
The look Agravaine received was plain disinterested on Hayden's part, and sort of pitying on Galahad's side. The Grail knight was nowhere near as perfect as people believed him to be, but hate was not something he was often acquainted with. "Fine. I'm here, like we agreed. Now you stay away from Wesley. Or Percival, whatever he wants to call himself." If Wesley wanted to play with the crazies that was just fine, as long as he did not hurt.
Galahad shifted his hands into his pocket, looking slightly up at Agravaine. If he felt more authoritative, the fact went over Hayden's head, he just wanted this little waste of time to end. Soon.
Oh. Oh, this was too good.
A laugh rang out, scornful and arrogant to the last note. "You are some fucking piece of work, did you know that?" This time, Agravaine hopped down to ground level, not caring to toss his cigarette just yet. "I thought you were an idiot before, but now you've really managed to sell me."
The next few steps brought them within three feet of each other, making their few inches of height difference a touch more obvious, but not too much. He tilted his head on an angle, narrowing his eyes in the dark.
"I don't think I'll be staying away. Try again."
"I don't particularly care what you think of me." Galahad replied truthfully and without malice (certainly could be interpreted as a higher kind of confidence... or arrogance). He kept his eyes on Agravaine's face, "What I don't understand is how all of you are so comfortable with this concept of being gods or whatever." It creeped him out.
While Hayden had been keeping an impassive expression on his face, it slowly changed into a frown, "Leave him alone, I don't care what your issues are, but leave Wesley out of it."
As he spoke, Agravaine took a long drag from his cigarette, and casually exhaled the smoke into Galahad's face once he'd finished, almost like he wasn't there at all. "He is my issue, dipshit. And his name is Percival, which you'd remember if you weren't so thick."
So far, the animosity had yet to show its ugly face, but it was there, bubbling under the surface. It wouldn't be long before his patience would run out, and the next thing he'd be offering was punches, not words. Did this guy really have no clue? It was pathetic.
The frown turned into a scowl, "No, he is not, and you're going to stay away from him." Galahad stated - not caring how possessive or annoyed or whatever he sounded. For him, Agravine was an unreasonable man and he did not want him close to Percival. "And you're all crazy, but you're going to stay away from my crazy."
The threat was clearly in his voice now, and a glare was present. And while Galahad could have taken on Agravaine and come out on top, Hayden could not. (A fact that Galahad's side had yet to catch up with.)
Yet. The operative word of the evening.
Agravaine gave him the same condescending look he'd offered earlier, and tossed the cigarette stub down at the snow, crossing that small expanse of ground to stand almost less than a foot away from the smaller knight. He was tired of listening to words and empty threats. A need for something more had him leaning in, without a care for personal space.
"Or what?" he whispered, breath condensing in the cool air ever so slightly.
"I think you know what." Galahad replied though he did move back a little - not fear, just repulsion at the invasion of personal space- especially from anyone who was not Percival. "Don't think there are no legal repercussions for threatening someone." Hayden was going with logic here, not knight logic.
There was a small stretch of silence where Agravaine said nothing, only watched him like he'd said the magic word. And maybe he had, but Galahad wouldn't get to find out. Whatever was left of his patience had completely worn away, leaving behind the irritation that'd slowly been building up.
Evidently, it was time to forget about words and talk with his hands. What was it that his brother had said? 'A kiss with his fist'. With the speed of someone who was far too practised at slugging people, the taller man reeled back a fast fist and directed it right into Galahad's face. No particular part of it, just the whole of it. He was tired of talking.
And this was a much more effective method of communication, he found.
Galahad had not seen that coming, and though his reflexes were rather good and he did manage to move it was not enough to take him out of harm's way. The fist collided with his jaw and he tasted blood. Ow. That had hurt. The blow had him reeling back for a moment before he let out a snarl and tackled Agravaine head-on.
Hey, he hadn't started this. Violence did seem to be how these knights communicated, from Lancelot waving a metal rod in his face, to Agravaine punching him. Something that Hayden did not appreciate, but while he was not experienced at fighting, there was strength behind that tackle and certainly any blows that came after.
The snow was cold and the ground was hard when Agravaine's back impacted with it, but with a growl he was quick to retaliate, reversing their positions with some difficulty, because while Galahad was shorter, he was not as easy a target as he looked.
Honestly, he had no fight with the grail knight. He just happened to piss him off, and not only was the man in denial of himself, but also his ridiculous love affair -- or whatever the hell it was -- with Percival. Then again, Agravaine never needed a good reason to lash out at someone -- it was the way he seemed to function, with violence and arrogance, and everything that wasn't nice.
Apparently it was a trait most of Morgause's children shared. Except for Gareth, the fucking goody two-shoes.
Galahad knew he was hitting and reciving blows back (because his body kept screaming in protest when Agravaine hit) and the snow was certainly cold. His back pressed against the snow, he lashed out with his fists trying to gain the upper hand. Of course considering Agravaine's size it was not easy, and this was more about brute strength than fighting finesse.
Hayden would not be here for anyone else, though some part of him felt more than ridiculous defending a man he barely knew (and he thought lusting after Wesley, if it was lust, was not reason enough to do this).
This whole thing was not going to end well, not for Galahad anyway.
The knuckles of Agravaine's left hand caught Galahad's already bruising jaw before soon finding their way into the collar of his jacket, yanking him closer. Snow decorated their clothes like they'd just tipped into a snowbank, but he didn't care about appearances for the moment -- this was about shaking some sense into a moron.
"You're just as psycho as the rest of us, Galahad," he hissed, practically spitting venom as he did so. To be perfectly honest, being referred to as insane wasn't something he appreciated. And after all, with so many people claiming to be mythological icons, maybe it was Hayden who was crazy. Not them.
"Shut up." Hayden snapped back before shoving his hand into Agravaine's eyes trying to blind him enough to get out from beneath him. This was not an ideal position for the Grail Knight, and neither was the taste of blood in his mouth or the fact he was certain a lot of him was going to be bruised come tomorrow.
If he only knew how much.
The attempt was successful for a whole three seconds, after which the elder knight yanked that wrist away and pinned it into the cold snow. He gripped hard enough to bruise, those bones digging into the flesh of his fingers. "How much--" Agravaine broke off to reach for the other wrist. "--do you think Percival would fight back? Think he's a slapper?"
The thought entertained him as he tried to flatten Galahad down into the ground, wanting him still and not flailing around like a fucking drowning man. He had to give him some credit, though -- he could smell and feel the blood trickling from his nose, where the little shit's accidental fist had caught him. Pathetic as he was, he wasn't a pushover.
And that was about the only thing he liked about him.
And of course the mention of Percival had Galahad seething, "Don't. fucking. touch him." he snarled. Maybe he had no idea what he was doing (maybe he knew exactly what he was doing) and it was not a bright idea to bring his head up trying to smash it against Agravaine's.
It was going to hurt and he was going to see stars (and probably piss off the other more). However the threat to Wesley made his instinct to fight and claw and kick and anything. Who the hell needed professional fighting then? Ha.
Unprepared for that particular move, Agravaine recoiled when their foreheads collided, biting out a loud 'fuck' when his eyesight swam in vicious circles. His vision had yet to fully return before he wrestled with the other man just enough to shove his face into the wet snow. He was already growing short on the topic of Percival.
"Or what? Or what? You'll fucking fight me again, tough guy? Learn to throw a goddamned decent punch before you start ordering me around, you moronic fuck." The former knight released him, then, as though suddenly sickened by the feel of him.
Being released had Galahad taking advantage of that moment, he was not going to stop what he was doing until Percival was safe. That was the right thing to do, it could be nothing less. He could not lose the other knight, Galahad would not. Nor leave him to get hurt.
Whatever happened next is a bit hazy in Hayden's memory, he remembered Agravaine, the cold and then his head smashing hard on the ice. There was the sound of sirens in the distance, and just white.