Casting his eyes over the room, its scooted furniture, strewn cushions, and broken tables, Asch flicks the table leg off into the middle of it. Its job here was clearly done.]
I don't know what counts as a "loss" in your addled world's view, but I'm starting to think that killing you would be something they'd twist into the ultimate "win". [He scoffs in disgust.] Pathetic.
[ The table leg gets flung away, and the sound of that makes Isaac start, makes him look up. He seems horribly confused to be let go. Startled, even.
.... slowly, he gathers himself up. Starts to rise. ]
... maybe, [ he says, real quiet. Killing him? ... who knows. They all want him gone, after all, so wouldn't it be...? He feels sick.
After a minute he's on his feet, sniffling just like he was when this all began, rubbing at his face. But: ]
You're wrong about one other thing. I didn't lose this fight, either. Not that you'd get why or anything, but Doorman'd... he'd... he'd be proud of me, so...
whatever. They stand in stoic silence, one in front of the other. The tear stains are still wet on Isaac's cheeks, flush from the adrenalin and emotion still coloring them. The hard-headed stubborn determination, grief, rage. It's hard not to see the similarities, this close up—enough to make him want to leave, now. Forget this ever happened.
Then the damn stupid brat apologizes. He crosses his arms, fingers digging into his forearm. What the hell was he supposed to do with that? Continued defiance at least would have been more familiar territory.]
[ like dude what the fuck is your damage? you don't need isaac's permission get outta here
he's just gonna... nurse his wounds. like. rubbing at his throat and accidentally smearing the blood. nice. he doesn't look like he got the shit kicked out of him or anything. ]
Isaac probably won't be expecting to get picked up by the back of his fancy suit jacket like a naughty puppy, but that sure is what's happening right now.
Asch stalks to the door out, wrenches it open, and hucks Isaac out into the main hall area.]
[ he's squawking to high hell what the FUCK is happening right now
isaac gets tossed into the hall like a sack of potatoes and he's in PAIN because he's HURT and DOESN'T LAND ELEGANTLY actually he just kind of falls on his ass
and stares back at the door with such bald incredulity the poor thing should probably burst into flames. ]
Who's the brat here?!
[ ...............................................
eventually he and his bruised ego (and his bruised everything else) finally get up and meander off in the probable direction of seeking medical attention ]
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no subject
Casting his eyes over the room, its scooted furniture, strewn cushions, and broken tables, Asch flicks the table leg off into the middle of it. Its job here was clearly done.]
I don't know what counts as a "loss" in your addled world's view, but I'm starting to think that killing you would be something they'd twist into the ultimate "win". [He scoffs in disgust.] Pathetic.
Get up. We're done here, you naive little fool.
no subject
.... slowly, he gathers himself up. Starts to rise. ]
... maybe, [ he says, real quiet. Killing him? ... who knows. They all want him gone, after all, so wouldn't it be...? He feels sick.
After a minute he's on his feet, sniffling just like he was when this all began, rubbing at his face. But: ]
You're wrong about one other thing. I didn't lose this fight, either. Not that you'd get why or anything, but Doorman'd... he'd... he'd be proud of me, so...
[ there's a long silence. then: ]
'm sorry.
no subject
whatever. They stand in stoic silence, one in front of the other. The tear stains are still wet on Isaac's cheeks, flush from the adrenalin and emotion still coloring them. The hard-headed stubborn determination, grief, rage. It's hard not to see the similarities, this close up—enough to make him want to leave, now. Forget this ever happened.
Then the damn stupid brat apologizes. He crosses his arms, fingers digging into his forearm. What the hell was he supposed to do with that? Continued defiance at least would have been more familiar territory.]
Tch.
It doesn't matter. I'm done in here, anyway.
[It's completely fucked??????? But okay???????]
no subject
[ like dude what the fuck is your damage? you don't need isaac's permission get outta here
he's just gonna... nurse his wounds. like. rubbing at his throat and accidentally smearing the blood. nice. he doesn't look like he got the shit kicked out of him or anything. ]
no subject
welp
Isaac probably won't be expecting to get picked up by the back of his fancy suit jacket like a naughty puppy, but that sure is what's happening right now.
Asch stalks to the door out, wrenches it open, and hucks Isaac out into the main hall area.]
Go to your room, brat!
[The door slams shut behind him.]
no subject
[ he's squawking to high hell what the FUCK is happening right now
isaac gets tossed into the hall like a sack of potatoes and he's in PAIN because he's HURT and DOESN'T LAND ELEGANTLY actually he just kind of falls on his ass
and stares back at the door with such bald incredulity the poor thing should probably burst into flames. ]
Who's the brat here?!
[ ...............................................
eventually he and his bruised ego (and his bruised everything else) finally get up and meander off in the probable direction of seeking medical attention ]