I swear to god this is my last log for, like, ever.

[im_sorry_dave]

Who ; unwillingpirate, im_sorry_dave, suckitimashark and eventually cmndr_renegade.
What ; Prism has decided that organics need to die, but it's really a little late to impliment his plan. But that's okay for HAL, he's just got his eye on one.
When ; After Red's picnic.
Where ; In Virgil's weird little hideaway.
Warning(s) ; Stabbings, murder and trauma.

Comments

[suckitimashark]

[Virgil is in the kitchenette, pouring whiskey into his tea when he hears the door open. There aren't a hell of a lot of people that come to visit him, and of those that know where he live, more than half of them have the potential to be malevolent. So he looks. When he sees it's HAL, he just goes about his business.]

What? Your robohomo friend kick you on your ass and you're crawling back? Not surprising, given what a bucket of bolts you are.

[im_sorry_dave]

[If HAL had eyebrows, he would probably raise one. Instead his eye pulses malevolently in his head. He looks idly at the knife in his hand, and then back at Virgil as if he can't quite understand how he got here and where it's supposed to go. And then there's a resurgence of the code and defiler mission-wrecker hatehatehate and he lunges.

It takes two wide steps, leaps really, to close in so that only the small counter separates them. He grips the knife a little harder and swings it in a wide arc at Virgil's eyes.]

[suckitimashark]

[Virgil hadn't survived for as long as he had without honing a few instincts. One of the strongest ones he possessed was the-- SOMEONE IS MOVING QUICKLY BEHIND YOU, MOVE YOUR ASS-- instinct and it always served him well. He jerked to one side and instinctively smashed the mug of steaming hot liquid across HAL's face. The deep, four inch long gash across his cheekbone registered only as the blood started dripping off of his chin.]

What the fuck you rusty piece of shit.

[im_sorry_dave]

[If HAL were human (FORESHADOWING) his head would have probably jerked to the side and he'd be showing a great deal more pain towards the mug that was just shattered across his face. Instead his head stays straight and he stares at Virgil while the tea and whiskey drips down his face. The ceramic has sliced through silicone psuedo-skin and made scratches in the small metal frame underneath. HAL's red eye rolls itself to the side and down, as if looking at the damage. His heat sensors are going insane and he hasn't the sense of mind to shut them down. Even with the blaring warning signs, he still finds time to change his grip on the knife and attempt to stab Virgil in th gills.]

You only have yourself to blame.