Locked in a Room

[dishevelment]

Who: Everyone stuck in Pride HQ
What: This load of crap.
When: Nov. 1-5
Where Pride HQ
Warnings: Pg-13 minimum because Carnies. Tag if it gets over that.


Everyone got the same call-- and now we're all stuck in HQ with no hint of release in sight.

The reason? No one knows.

How are you coping?

Comments

[traumatizing]

[He doesn't move either way, it's not like someone getting in his face is new for Terry and they tended to be a good deal bigger than Jamie. Teen goths represent.]

Are you for real? [He is genuinely perplexed by how one person can be so angry and deliberately obtuse.] Are you really this desperate for a fight?

[He's a lot more amenable to throwing down than he's acting, he'd just prefer for someone else to start it.]

[mildwildchild]

[Jamie couldn't really give Terry a definite answer on that one, even assuming the question hadn't been rhetorical. Maybe he is itching for a fight; maybe he just wants something physical to vent his aimless anger and frustration on, or something definite to feel upset about. He can't really say. So he does the next best thing and just...blusters some more.]

I'm ready if you are, jerk. [Jamie you are not ready. You will never be ready.]

[traumatizing]

Alright.

[Terry pauses to take off his rings and shove them in his pocket (he's not in that much of a bad mood) and gestures broadly. Although the whole "you first" thing might prove to be a mistake, Terry weighs basically nothing.]

[mildwildchild]

[HAHA Jamie doesn't even wear sissy jewelry to take off, Terry! +1 manhood point for him.]

What, you too scared to take the first shot?

[...he says, and backs it up with his most devastating attack: a sad shove.]

[traumatizing]

[...Wow.]

[If this is all Jamie has, Terry may well feel too bad to actually hit him. He sways on his feet at the shove and squints, somewhat confused.]

[Deadpan:] Terrified.

[mildwildchild]

[...okay Jamie may suck at fighting but he knows when he's being made fun of. This does succeed in making him angrier, though, so...good job?]

Fuck you! [He tries for a punch to the gut. Considering that he is sort of new to this whole fighting-for-reals thing, it's probably weak and crooked and way off-mark.]

[traumatizing]

[It hits hard enough to make Terry move back a bit with a quiet grunt, (is he annoyed or is it pain? It's both!) but it's not enough to really do anything and Terry immediately retaliates by swinging for Jamie's face.]

[mildwildchild]

[Jamie tries to flinch away from this when he sees it coming, but despite being pretty nimble otherwise he can't quite evade it completely, and Terry's fist slams into his temple. Jamie reels back, head ringing.]

Ahhh, fuck! Shit, fuck!

[It's almost as though...Jamie's never actually been punched in a fight before.]

[traumatizing]

[Is this... Is this real life. Jamie's reaction straight up kills the aggressively angry bad vibes Terry had going, and he leans forward a little to try and get a look at Jamie's face.]

Are you okay?

[Dumb question to ask someone you just punched in the head, but he's concerned okay.]

[mildwildchild]

Jesus fuck what the christ -

[Jamie is still clutching the side of his head in pain, and when he sees Terry looming in closer he manfully tries to fend him off by...making this half-swatting, half-pushing motion in the general direction of Terry's face.]

I'm fine! Fuck off!

[traumatizing]

Shit--! Alright, Jesus.

[He backs off, putting his hands up in surrender, but he's still watching to make sure he didn't accidentally do some kind of damage or something. He doesn't think he's strong enough for that, but you never know.]

[mildwildchild]

[Jamie takes his hand away from his face and looks at it as though checking it for blood. If he's surprised there isn't any, it doesn't show.]

I don't need your pity, man! [Jamie did you really just say that.] Fine, you win. You proved your point. You're the boss. Are you happy now?

[Who wouldn't be happy winning a fight against an angry midget with one punch? Seriously that must be some kind of record.]

[traumatizing]

[Could he roll his eyes any harder? He's worried about the guy, but what's with the attitude.]

Come on, they'll have ice at the bar.

[mildwildchild]

Why are you being all nice all of a sudden? [This comes out sounding less aggressively hostile than any of his previous comments. More sullen and unsure, like Terry's playing some angle here Jamie can't figure out.]

[traumatizing]

I'm pissed off, not a dick.

[How does one diplomatically say "I wouldn't have punched you if I knew you had no idea what you're doing."]

[mildwildchild]

No, you're a dick. [Again, sounding more sulky than genuinely mad, almost as though Jamie maybe accepts that he brought this on himself. He gestures defeatedly, letting his hand drop back against his thigh with a slap.]

Fine, whatever. Where's the bar.

[traumatizing]

[Terry snorts, but he doesn't argue, turning instead to lead Jamie to the bar.]

If it makes you feel any better, my hand really hurts.

[mildwildchild]

You're tougher than you look. You hit a lot harder than Maxxie. [Not...that Maxxie actually hit him, so it's kind of an unfair comparison.]

[traumatizing]

Flashstep Maxxie? [... Squint.] Shit, are you in Flashstep?

[mildwildchild]

[Jamie recoils at Terry's sudden scrutiny, as though he's expecting a good proper beatdown now that Terry's realized he's dealing with someone in a boyband.]

Yeah. To both. Why, what difference does that make?

[It comes out all rushed and defensive, and he's starting to bristle up again in preparation for whatever Terry's going to do.]

[traumatizing]

None, really.

[He gives Jamie a thoughtful look, trying to think about the best way to say what he's thinking.] You're just... More aggressive then I'd expect someone in a boyband to be.

[mildwildchild]

[Jamie's not really sure how to respond to that - I'm not usually this bad, I wouldn't go around picking fights if I wasn't feeling all weird and fucked-up, I can't punch all of Predator in the face so I settled on you instead would all be technically accurate, but they hardly seem appropriate to share with someone who just clocked him in the head. So instead he just shrugs and looks away, resuming his trek to the bar.]

Yeah, well, just because we don't set our amps on fire or write songs about the aching darkness of our souls doesn't mean we're all a bunch of little prisses. [It comes out taut and strained but not overtly hostile. Like he's trying not to escalate things but only half-succeeding.]

[traumatizing]

[Terry snorts.] Guess I should know better than to listen to PR by now.

[He gives Jamie a half-amused look over his shoulder as they get to Pink, and he leads the way to the bar so he can ask for ice for his hand and Jamie's face. And a shot of something that'll burn appropriately while he's at it.]

[mildwildchild]

[Jamie returns Terry's look flatly, just on the off-chance he's being mocked - Jamie honestly can't be sure anymore, and tends to always suspect the worst anyway. When he gets to the bar he orders a shot of something too - Jaegermeister, to be exact - and claims a seat.]

So who are you, anyway? [Since Terry already knows (kind of) who Jamie is. Jamie's aware the guy looks familiar and is a fellow newb, but can't place him beyond that.]

[traumatizing]

My name's Terry. [He slumps tiredly against the bar with a sigh] I play in Cosmic Indulgence.