[Erol doubles over, one hand whipping out to catch the bar and lean on it. There's a sharp look to his eye as he glances up at the former experiment. He WANTS to fight, clearly. But he won't.]
[Jak's voice is dark and gravelly, and he's clearly struggling to suppress the Dark Eco as it surges inside him. Swinging his arm, he aims for his armor to connect with the side of Erol's head and send him crashing into a table.]
Even as the poker chips scatter, he's still thinking. Erol can never be still, even if it's just mental activity. How to make Jak look as bad as possible... He can see that Dark Eco, smell it. It just needs a little help to come on out.]
I'm still not going to fight you.
You know, even he struck a hit before I started in on him.
Maybe you just want to hit someone who won't fight back. I know there's a bloodthirsty monster in you that just wants to hurt things.
[Erol braces for impact, but doesn't run, or strike back, even though it would be easy enough to plant a foot in Jak's chest and send him over backwards.]
Orders. But you wouldn't understand that sort of restraint, would you.
[The whites of Jak's eyes are clouding over; Erol can almost smell the Eco. Something in him jumps in return, and he wants nothing more than to encourage it.
It's just a little concession to his needs. Given how much restraint he's showing and will have to show in the future, it's such a little thing.
[Jak lands on top of Erol, expecting ... something. Defense, fighting back, some kind of retaliation. But there's nothing. It's infuriating, it just makes him angrier, he wants to fight him.
The teen narrows his eyes, and then Erol mouths those words. Those words.
There's a rush inside, something entirely out of Jak's control. A hot, burning flood of power as his skin whitens and he throws his head back, snarling in pain as twisted horns take root in his silver hair, eyes misted with black. Claws unsheathe and rip through the fabric of Erol's shirt like a hot knife through butter, and Jak hisses at him through dangerously sharp teeth, breath hot with the acrid stench of Dark Eco.]
[And there's his creation. His lovely, lovely little experiment.
Mmm, well, not so little.
Erol's not certain he'll ever get tired of it, really. He just wishes he could have seen it in action against the Metal Heads.
But his voice, when he speaks, is low and resentful.]
Go on then. Have your fun at my expense.
You could hardly pick a better target.
[After all... who, of consequence, would care? Christine would care, and... that's about it. Erol wasn't like Herz, he didn't have half the boat up and ready to avenge him.
No, if Jak wanted to brutalize something, Erol was a safe target all right. He could get away with it without the slightest risk to his reputation.
Oh, except for the fact that the sounds of inhuman violence are being broadcast to the entire ship. Details.]
[Jak doesn't wait for an invitation, he backhands Erol and slashes his claws across his chest, blood soaking into the scraps of clothing left there. He huffs and snarls, ready to --
No. Wait. He hesitates. He wants this to last. Hauling Erol up by the remnants of his shirt, Jak shoves him roughly up against the wall, Dark Eco rippling off him in waves, crackling in the air and singeing the wallpaper.]
[Where. Where are they? He grasps his communicator in one hand and the Goron mask in the other and trudges down the hallway towards the casino, his heart pounding slow but strong, they way it always did right before trouble. This isn't a matter of whether this conflict is any of his business or not anymore.
For one thing, it was his business now, because Jak is his friend and he doesn't want him to get mangled too -- or worse. But that's not it: he doesn't fully understand the conversation and crashing noises coming from over the communicators, but something is not right. At all.
Both of these violent people are Zelda's friends?! What is going on with Jak -- what is he DOING? Erol isn't fighting back, so this is hardly any different from what Erol did to Herz. Different only in attitude, only in context... the act is the same
( ... )
[Jak's head jerks to the side at the rough, unfamiliar voice. Dark eyes narrow distrustfully, and a fearsome, animalistic growl rumbles in his chest, warning the stranger to stay back. He's not even close to done yet.
But then, using the Dark Eco on the ship was exhausting, and already he's having a hard time holding on to it. Maybe he'd just ... let Erol live. Huffing, he bats at the ex-KG's face with the back of his hand, then grunts and throws him to the stranger.
Do whatever you want with him. I've made my point.]
I wake up to the loveliest things~psychoticracerJuly 24 2009, 19:16:08 UTC
*Erol yowls as the claws go straight through his shirt and the flesh beneath. Just as well he didn't wear his armor - he'd rather keep it, and not have it gouged up or shredded like tinfoil. His linbs itch to strike back - there are SO many things he could do to fight back - but no. He's making a point here, and with any luck, Praxis will like it
( ... )
*makes us coffee* ;3;threedaystimeJuly 25 2009, 01:30:53 UTC
[He watches Jak leave, expression terse with thought, before he finally stomps over to Erol to get a better look at him.
Ugh. Is this what Herz looked like this when the Major found him? Those scratches... how ironic. How malicious and creepy. The Jak he met in the forest - he was really nice. So nice that it feels a little painful knowing he can't trust him, that he doesn't really have a friend in him. Looking down at the bloodied man and recalling Jak's kindness, Link slowly starts to understand how they could have both deceived the Princess the same way Jak had tried to do the same to him.
Link doesn't understand what the beef is between these two men, but that is something he can definitely stay out of and recognize as not his business. He kneels at Erol's side, knees thudding loudly as they hit the ground, and puts a massive hand behind his back to support him.]
[Erol tenses at the touch, eyes flashing sharp and vicious as a cornered, feral animal for half a second. But he orients himself quickly, remembering he's NOT to fight, and recognizing this - whatever the hell it is - isn't a threat anyway. His eyes dull to merely sullen, face a careful mask.]
Don't need any help.
[It's ludicrous, but he insists it, pride stronger than ever. He struggles to sit up properly, get his legs under him; if he can get on his feet, he'll be fine, he can make it to medical. It's laying here that will kill him staying still bleeding his life out. Movement is life. Always.
He gets about as far as needing to use his stomach muscles. Jak could have easily eviscerated him, but he stopped just short. That didn't mean he hadn't been ripped into several inches deep. Suddenly pale, he locks his elbow and tries to breathe against the ringing in his ears, the dull white creeping in at the edges of his vision. He's starting to shake.]
[The words come out without Link thinking them; the statement was Darmani's, not his own. In his mind he chides the Goron, but the spirit only chuckles deeply back. "What? It's true. This man ought to be told that, even if it's futile."
Grunting with mild annoyance, Link begins to tuck his other arm under Erol's legs.]
...Stop exerting yourself. If you keep moving you'll be dead by the time we make it to the infirmary.
[Yes, Erol, this big mysterious creature taking you there. He hasn't risen and picked you up, yet, but he's poised to do it.]
Better yet, he could use it to make Praxis look good. It would go a long way towards restoring his favor, which Erol very much wanted.]
I won't fight you, Jak.
[Even though the idea makes his eyes light up with temptation. He has more self-control than that... for the moment.]
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You won't fight back? Fine. Not my problem.
[He releases his grip on Erol's shirt, draws his arm back, and slams his fist into the man's gut.]
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[Erol doubles over, one hand whipping out to catch the bar and lean on it. There's a sharp look to his eye as he glances up at the former experiment. He WANTS to fight, clearly. But he won't.]
... Fine. You got in a free hit. Satisfied?
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[Jak's voice is dark and gravelly, and he's clearly struggling to suppress the Dark Eco as it surges inside him. Swinging his arm, he aims for his armor to connect with the side of Erol's head and send him crashing into a table.]
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Even as the poker chips scatter, he's still thinking. Erol can never be still, even if it's just mental activity. How to make Jak look as bad as possible... He can see that Dark Eco, smell it. It just needs a little help to come on out.]
I'm still not going to fight you.
You know, even he struck a hit before I started in on him.
Maybe you just want to hit someone who won't fight back. I know there's a bloodthirsty monster in you that just wants to hurt things.
Reply
Drunk on the Dark Eco twisting and coiling in his veins, Jak snarls and lunges at Erol.]
Why won't you fight me?!
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Orders. But you wouldn't understand that sort of restraint, would you.
[The whites of Jak's eyes are clouding over; Erol can almost smell the Eco. Something in him jumps in return, and he wants nothing more than to encourage it.
It's just a little concession to his needs. Given how much restraint he's showing and will have to show in the future, it's such a little thing.
Eco Freak, he mouths silently.]
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The teen narrows his eyes, and then Erol mouths those words. Those words.
There's a rush inside, something entirely out of Jak's control. A hot, burning flood of power as his skin whitens and he throws his head back, snarling in pain as twisted horns take root in his silver hair, eyes misted with black. Claws unsheathe and rip through the fabric of Erol's shirt like a hot knife through butter, and Jak hisses at him through dangerously sharp teeth, breath hot with the acrid stench of Dark Eco.]
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Mmm, well, not so little.
Erol's not certain he'll ever get tired of it, really. He just wishes he could have seen it in action against the Metal Heads.
But his voice, when he speaks, is low and resentful.]
Go on then. Have your fun at my expense.
You could hardly pick a better target.
[After all... who, of consequence, would care? Christine would care, and... that's about it. Erol wasn't like Herz, he didn't have half the boat up and ready to avenge him.
No, if Jak wanted to brutalize something, Erol was a safe target all right. He could get away with it without the slightest risk to his reputation.
Oh, except for the fact that the sounds of inhuman violence are being broadcast to the entire ship. Details.]
Reply
No. Wait. He hesitates. He wants this to last. Hauling Erol up by the remnants of his shirt, Jak shoves him roughly up against the wall, Dark Eco rippling off him in waves, crackling in the air and singeing the wallpaper.]
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For one thing, it was his business now, because Jak is his friend and he doesn't want him to get mangled too -- or worse. But that's not it: he doesn't fully understand the conversation and crashing noises coming from over the communicators, but something is not right. At all.
Both of these violent people are Zelda's friends?! What is going on with Jak -- what is he DOING? Erol isn't fighting back, so this is hardly any different from what Erol did to Herz. Different only in attitude, only in context... the act is the same ( ... )
Reply
But then, using the Dark Eco on the ship was exhausting, and already he's having a hard time holding on to it. Maybe he'd just ... let Erol live. Huffing, he bats at the ex-KG's face with the back of his hand, then grunts and throws him to the stranger.
Do whatever you want with him. I've made my point.]
Reply
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Ugh. Is this what Herz looked like this when the Major found him? Those scratches... how ironic. How malicious and creepy. The Jak he met in the forest - he was really nice. So nice that it feels a little painful knowing he can't trust him, that he doesn't really have a friend in him. Looking down at the bloodied man and recalling Jak's kindness, Link slowly starts to understand how they could have both deceived the Princess the same way Jak had tried to do the same to him.
Link doesn't understand what the beef is between these two men, but that is something he can definitely stay out of and recognize as not his business. He kneels at Erol's side, knees thudding loudly as they hit the ground, and puts a massive hand behind his back to support him.]
You're lucky I found you two.
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Don't need any help.
[It's ludicrous, but he insists it, pride stronger than ever. He struggles to sit up properly, get his legs under him; if he can get on his feet, he'll be fine, he can make it to medical. It's laying here that will kill him staying still bleeding his life out. Movement is life. Always.
He gets about as far as needing to use his stomach muscles. Jak could have easily eviscerated him, but he stopped just short. That didn't mean he hadn't been ripped into several inches deep. Suddenly pale, he locks his elbow and tries to breathe against the ringing in his ears, the dull white creeping in at the edges of his vision. He's starting to shake.]
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[The words come out without Link thinking them; the statement was Darmani's, not his own. In his mind he chides the Goron, but the spirit only chuckles deeply back. "What? It's true. This man ought to be told that, even if it's futile."
Grunting with mild annoyance, Link begins to tuck his other arm under Erol's legs.]
...Stop exerting yourself. If you keep moving you'll be dead by the time we make it to the infirmary.
[Yes, Erol, this big mysterious creature taking you there. He hasn't risen and picked you up, yet, but he's poised to do it.]
Relax.
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