OOM: Fight

Apr. 17th, 2006 02:16 am
latino_menace: (Casual Killer)
[personal profile] latino_menace

It's been coming since the day they met and Ramon knows it. Right now, he can't think what took him so long. Because Sands needs to be taught a lesson, he's needed it for ages and it can't be put off any longer. There's only so long he can play nice.

Ramon exits the bar in a hurry, dragging Sands after him. It's dark enough and anyway, he's beyond caring if anyone sees. The thought that he shouldn't be doing this is drowned under waves of long-supressed anger, ignored to be dealt with later.

He lets him go eventually, when they're near the lake bank, a hard shove pushing him away. Then he spreads his arms wide and his face twists into a snarl.

'Come on then. You've been pushing for this, come and get it if you've got the guts.'

Date: 2006-04-17 01:43 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] rigthegames.livejournal.com
Sands staggers only a little as Ramon pushes him, righting himself swiftly and turning to grin brightly. Again making no move to attack Ramon, he spreads his own arms invitingly, voice low and taunting.

“Doesn’t that feel better, shouting and shoving? Come on, sweetcheeks, doesn’t that feel good?”

Date: 2006-04-17 01:55 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] rigthegames.livejournal.com
Again Sands staggers backwards, catching himself before he falls.

“Make me,” he sing-songs, laughter sharp and brittle. “Come on, sweetcheeks, you didn’t even knock me over!”

Date: 2006-04-17 02:14 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] rigthegames.livejournal.com
Sands head jerks back and he stumbles sideways, sunglasses flying off his face. Slowly, he raises a hand and runs it along his jaw, eyes sliding shut with a wince. The smile on his face is almost reverent.

Then his eyes snap open again, dancing with merriment.

“Is that it?”

Date: 2006-04-17 02:30 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] rigthegames.livejournal.com
And all Ramon gets is laughter.

Sands is on his knees at Ramon's feet, with a smear of blood trickling from his nose and the bruises already forming. And he is laughing like it’s the greatest joke in the universe.

“I almost felt that one.”

He grins, wild and feral.

“Anything else, sweetcheeks?”

Date: 2006-04-17 02:38 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] rigthegames.livejournal.com
The force of the kicks sends him flying, landing on his back and wheezing for breath.

“I may be on the floor, Ramon,” Sands chokes out, lip curling, “but I’ve got a brilliant view.

He pushes himself back up onto his knees, wincing. The laughter returns, forced at first but growing in amusement as he wipes his bleeding nose.

Date: 2006-04-17 02:59 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] rigthegames.livejournal.com
He’s knocked backwards again, catching himself with an outflung arm.

For a second he is silent, running a tongue along his teeth and spitting out a thin trickle of scarlet, and then Sands flashes Ramon a bright grin.

“I like dirt.”

Date: 2006-04-17 03:07 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] rigthegames.livejournal.com
It takes him longer, this time, to pick himself up again. His nose is bleeding full force now, and his tongue darts out to taste the blood. His lips quirk, almost smiling.

“I may be a coward, Ramon, but you’re the one weak enough to let yourself get angry.”

Up on his knees now, he laughs sharply.

Date: 2006-04-17 03:20 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] rigthegames.livejournal.com
It’s a definite struggle to push himself up off of the ground. One Sands isn’t quite able to fight. He lets himself sink back down, still laughing weakly.

“And you, Ramon?” he chuckles into the grass, once he’s caught his breath back. “What would you do if you lost your sight?”

Date: 2006-04-17 03:34 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] rigthegames.livejournal.com
Feel that, Ramon?

That’s the barrel of a gun digging into your stomach.

Sands smiles serenely, eyes sliding shut.

“You can’t cry,” he whispers, “when you’ve got no eyes.”

Click goes the gun, as it’s taken off of safety.

Date: 2006-04-17 03:58 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] gorlim.livejournal.com
The trouble with doing anything in close vicinity to the forest is you're likely to be observed by the resident treehuggers. Gorlim is not QUITE that environmentally friendly, but he gets tired of walls -- force of habit, after five years sleeping on a moor. He hasn't seen the WHOLE fight, indeed, he hasn't seen much more than this. And he had intended to leave it be and let Ramon get on with his business.

Then... the gun and the knife showed up. And this is where Gorlim encounters a moral dilemma. He likes Ramon. He knows Random would not like it if Ramon were to be shot or thrown in the cells for dismembering someone. And dismembering people isn't nice, even when they have a gun pointed at you.

If only because Ramon's knife is nowhere NEAR suited for the task.

And if Gorlim knows Ramon, this is not a situation that's likely to diffuse on its own.

Therefor Sands? Whoever he is, the lucky gentleman finds himself being barreled over in VERY short order by a spazzy scarecrow.

A spazzy HEAVILY-ARMED scarecrow.

Sands gets pinned down by Gorlim's full weight and a somewhat longer, slightly curved knife pressed to his throat.

"DROP IT. THAT'S NOT A REQUEST." Gorlim is talking to both of them, because Ramon has a broadsword pointed at him. "BOTH OF YOU DROP IT NOW."

Date: 2006-04-17 04:06 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] rigthegames.livejournal.com
Sands eyes snap open again.

He stares blankly up at the spazzy scarecrow currently pinning him down, and then, with a slow and deliberate care, releases his gun.

Crazy though he may be, a knife against your throat is not something you argue with.

Date: 2006-04-17 04:15 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] gorlim.livejournal.com
Gorlim is very sure he does, but that isn't the issue right now. He swiftly sheaths the sword, grabs the gun, and moves off of Sands. The nice thing about a gun is you don't need to be gung-ho and charge with the Light Brigade to be EFFECTIVE. But the knife stays in his hand.

"You. Stay where you are. RAMON, I SAID GET RID OF THE KNIFE."

Gorlim has that LOOK. He doesn't have it often, but he can mean it just as much as Ramon can. And he's got the trigger now and the safety's still off. "You know I can use this. You taught me how. Back off. You know I mean it. And you know you're going to be in deeper shit with Random than you'll EVER get with me if you don't."

Date: 2006-04-17 04:23 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] rigthegames.livejournal.com
Whether Gorlim meant for him to remain motionless or not, Sands pushes himself up into sitting position. Ignoring the other two, he rubs at his bleeding nose, smearing scarlet across his face.

“Shit,” he murmurs, lips twitching into a faint smile. Eyeing his gun where he let it drop, he laps blood off the back of his hand.

Date: 2006-04-17 04:31 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] gorlim.livejournal.com
Gorlim stands slowly, and the knife and the gun switch hands, so now the gun is towards Sands. Mostly because he knows Ramon better. and maybe trusts him enough not to make any sudden moves at this point. "You stay put," he warns Sands again. "What the hell happened?"

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Ramon Salazar

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