*This is much much later than Tim up there. Probably the next day. But go ahead and check you comm, stare at the computer screen and edit video or whatever you do. See that reflection in the screen.
[ That sure is some video-checking he's doing there. Alex is parked on his chair in front of a laptop, fast-forwarding through the day's footage in a couple simultaneous windows and drinking Red Bull through a straw so that he doesn't have to turn his attention away from them.
Alex doesn't see it coming in time to dodge. He shouts in pain and reels back and sideways against the edge of the desk, both hands going up to protect his face.
The bare second he gets his balance back, he's escaping across the room, one hand up under his glasses to press against the spot where he got decked. Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit. ]
[ He doesn't make straight for the door, because he knows Markus. He turns when he reaches the wall, his back to it for security, and glares at the guy one-eyed.
Crap. Crap. How's he going to defend himself if he tries that again? Alex has his gun, but like hell is he going to shoot Markus. ]
[ And... and that's all he's got. He has no excuse for anything else, with or without leftover doctor-y slang. Reasons, sure, but excuses? Some way in which he wasn't the villain of those confrontations? Nothing doing. ]
That icon frightens even me.40410December 14 2010, 10:18:05 UTC
[ Yeah, did we mention that being all he's got? And the reminder that he's now gone injurously splicer-crazy at Markus twice is... pretty horrifying. Especially since Markus went out of his way to help him when they were brothers. Anger's difficult to get rid of, but this anger is getting outclassed by guilt.
...Honestly his memories of being a splicer are so messed-up that he still hoped half of it might be imagined. He remembers whacking a chair at someone in the corner - oh shit. ]
It is exactly who you think it is.
He is not pleased.*
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Video video video video - ]
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He spins around in his chair - ]
Markus?!
[ - Then stands anxiously. ]
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Because, honestly, that has been a long time coming.*
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Alex doesn't see it coming in time to dodge. He shouts in pain and reels back and sideways against the edge of the desk, both hands going up to protect his face.
The bare second he gets his balance back, he's escaping across the room, one hand up under his glasses to press against the spot where he got decked. Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit. ]
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Deserved that.
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Crap. Crap. How's he going to defend himself if he tries that again? Alex has his gun, but like hell is he going to shoot Markus. ]
What the hell?!
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Deserved that.
*He sounds a little accusing.*
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[ And... and that's all he's got. He has no excuse for anything else, with or without leftover doctor-y slang. Reasons, sure, but excuses? Some way in which he wasn't the villain of those confrontations? Nothing doing. ]
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Was trying to help when you attacked me.
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...Honestly his memories of being a splicer are so messed-up that he still hoped half of it might be imagined. He remembers whacking a chair at someone in the corner - oh shit. ]
...Did I hurt you?
[ ohgodhe'saterribleperson ]
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Detective in woods bandaged it.
Died and it fixed.
*Yeah. Remember that? When you exploded with ice crystals and his arm got infected and almost fell off? Feel baaaaaad.*
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