Nerp nerp Blue Beetle (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
scarabsuited) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
capeandcowllogs2010-05-14 11:17 am
scarabsuited) wrote in capeandcowllogs2010-05-14 11:17 am
Entry tags:
and there's more baddies to beat up
WHO: Tim and Jaime
WHERE: them mean City streets
WHEN: Late night 5/13
WARNINGS: manly adolescent anguish i guess 8|;;
SUMMARY: OUR LIVES SUCK let's beat people up and pretend we're okay
FORMAT: No
The fights were starting to blend together, and Jaime had the faintest notion that it wasn't a good thing. Not enough notion to quit, but enough to make a note to slow it up. Eventually. Once this was done.
"Fuckin' freak!" shouted the fatter gang member.
"Hold 'im!" shouted the shorter one.
Try it, thought the Blue Beetle, planting his feet and crossing his arms in front of himself. His hands molded and elongated to swordpoint, slashing out with the flats and sending the fat man on his fat behind. He'd be fine. Fat people have a natural cushion.
The shorter one--who was still taller than Jaime, he was annoyed to note--wrapped his arms around Jaime's neck from behind, yanking him backwards. It was annoying. Jaime elbowed at him repeatedly, but the guy had a good hold. All that Tower training about grips and holds went to mush in the midst of adrenaline and cussing, so Jaime was having himself a bit of a struggle. "All--right! Let! Go!" he grunted, having to reshape his hands for fingers to grip the thick arms trying to suffocate him.
All the while, fat man and his three buddies seemed to remember they had guns. Great. Fat man said something Jaime didn't catch, walking up and pressing the barrel of the gun against his temple. At first, Jaime's stomach dropped with dread--a natural reaction. Oh, no.
Scarab reminded him he was in armor, though, and he just scowled, digging his nails into the shorter man's arms in attempt to free himself before bullets were fired.
I wouldn't be in this mess if it were a school night...
WHERE: them mean City streets
WHEN: Late night 5/13
WARNINGS: manly adolescent anguish i guess 8|;;
SUMMARY: OUR LIVES SUCK let's beat people up and pretend we're okay
FORMAT: No
The fights were starting to blend together, and Jaime had the faintest notion that it wasn't a good thing. Not enough notion to quit, but enough to make a note to slow it up. Eventually. Once this was done.
"Fuckin' freak!" shouted the fatter gang member.
"Hold 'im!" shouted the shorter one.
Try it, thought the Blue Beetle, planting his feet and crossing his arms in front of himself. His hands molded and elongated to swordpoint, slashing out with the flats and sending the fat man on his fat behind. He'd be fine. Fat people have a natural cushion.
The shorter one--who was still taller than Jaime, he was annoyed to note--wrapped his arms around Jaime's neck from behind, yanking him backwards. It was annoying. Jaime elbowed at him repeatedly, but the guy had a good hold. All that Tower training about grips and holds went to mush in the midst of adrenaline and cussing, so Jaime was having himself a bit of a struggle. "All--right! Let! Go!" he grunted, having to reshape his hands for fingers to grip the thick arms trying to suffocate him.
All the while, fat man and his three buddies seemed to remember they had guns. Great. Fat man said something Jaime didn't catch, walking up and pressing the barrel of the gun against his temple. At first, Jaime's stomach dropped with dread--a natural reaction. Oh, no.
Scarab reminded him he was in armor, though, and he just scowled, digging his nails into the shorter man's arms in attempt to free himself before bullets were fired.
I wouldn't be in this mess if it were a school night...