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ataraxionlogs2013-06-12 11:44 am
ironsights) wrote in ataraxionlogs2013-06-12 11:44 am
Entry tags:
and like a blind hammer
CHARACTERS: "Rudy" & Kazama.
LOCATION: Hallways, not too far from the gym.
WARNINGS: Emotionally-crippled manchildren fistfighting.
SUMMARY: It's a shock these two even lasted this long without brawling, let's be honest.
The frustration that's been building up in his gut at a slow boil, stacking up pressure inside until it aches, is starting to reach some sort of critical point. It's been almost a full year since he's ended up in this wretched place, and Kazama feels like he's starting to rot.
Though he's still quiet, still dutiful, still timely and responsible with his shifts on security patrol, Kazama's starting to feel increasingly resentful about -- well. About everything. About this place, where he serves no purpose; about the collar latched around his throat, a constant reminder of his weakness; about just how goddamn useless and lost he feels here. He might have been a wanted man back home, but at least there he had a clear purpose and a goal -- here, he stagnates.
It's these glum thoughts that filter through his mind as Kazama makes his way towards the gym. There, he can at least work his frustrations out on a punching bag without hurting anyone, without showing anyone else just how much he's starting to slip from his usual controlled self. He passes by a few people in the hallways, only briefly noting who they are, whether they're familiar or not, then moving on.
But one person gives him pause. A familiar person, of course. Kazama spots "Rudy" coming down the hallway from the opposite direction, and he at first dismisses the other's presence. Plans on pretending not to have seen him at all. But something feels off. Something -- nags at the back of his mind. Between the way Brian is dressed, the way he moves, the way he holds himself, Kazama feels a cold chill crawl down his spine.
Something about the other seems familiar in a toxic way, and Kazama's footsteps slow as he scrutinizes Brian coldly.
LOCATION: Hallways, not too far from the gym.
WARNINGS: Emotionally-crippled manchildren fistfighting.
SUMMARY: It's a shock these two even lasted this long without brawling, let's be honest.
The frustration that's been building up in his gut at a slow boil, stacking up pressure inside until it aches, is starting to reach some sort of critical point. It's been almost a full year since he's ended up in this wretched place, and Kazama feels like he's starting to rot.
Though he's still quiet, still dutiful, still timely and responsible with his shifts on security patrol, Kazama's starting to feel increasingly resentful about -- well. About everything. About this place, where he serves no purpose; about the collar latched around his throat, a constant reminder of his weakness; about just how goddamn useless and lost he feels here. He might have been a wanted man back home, but at least there he had a clear purpose and a goal -- here, he stagnates.
It's these glum thoughts that filter through his mind as Kazama makes his way towards the gym. There, he can at least work his frustrations out on a punching bag without hurting anyone, without showing anyone else just how much he's starting to slip from his usual controlled self. He passes by a few people in the hallways, only briefly noting who they are, whether they're familiar or not, then moving on.
But one person gives him pause. A familiar person, of course. Kazama spots "Rudy" coming down the hallway from the opposite direction, and he at first dismisses the other's presence. Plans on pretending not to have seen him at all. But something feels off. Something -- nags at the back of his mind. Between the way Brian is dressed, the way he moves, the way he holds himself, Kazama feels a cold chill crawl down his spine.
Something about the other seems familiar in a toxic way, and Kazama's footsteps slow as he scrutinizes Brian coldly.