(no subject)

[alloy-avenger.livejournal.com]

Valentines....?

Hah.

It's for the living.

Comments

[beatofherwings.livejournal.com]

I think the Dead would call that prejudiced.

Haha, found you!

[alloy-avenger.livejournal.com]

You say that like you have any idea what the dead think.

[beatofherwings.livejournal.com]

*after a brief, pensive pause* Yeah, I think I've got a pretty good idea...

[alloy-avenger.livejournal.com]

His right eyebrow raises slightly.

...Junkies...

[beatofherwings.livejournal.com]

*laughs - loudly - shaking her head* No. Not me, my friend. Too many responsibilities.

[alloy-avenger.livejournal.com]

Friend? He scoffs.

Responsibility? Praytell, Madam Heroine...

What responsibilities does that completely undernourished husk of yours possess?

She grew thinner and paler by the second in his eyes.

[beatofherwings.livejournal.com]

*a warm, almost motherly smile replaces the laughing* More than you can comprehend, Mr. Henshaw, and more than there is time enough to tell, had you all eternity to listen.

ooc - Just fyi, in case you were unawares, Death is TINY. Think 5'1", maybe 5'2"... I find the mental image of them standing together hysterical

[alloy-avenger.livejournal.com]

With a scowl in his voice, he replies...
I insist you call me Cyborg.

Sure, it was eery that she knew his name, but really...who HADN'T heard of him by now? She just knew her stuff. The rest, of course, was madness.

But then the gears in his alloy skull turned. Eternal Responsibility? Knowing what the dead think?

...Who exactly are you?



Hank is about 6'2, 225? Consider this... Murphy is 6'6", 500+

[beatofherwings.livejournal.com]

*her forehead wrinkles and her eyebrows draw down* Cyborg? I think I like Hank better, but hey, it's your name.

*the smile returns as she tucks her hands in her pockets* You already know who I am.

I find that absolutely hysterical

[alloy-avenger.livejournal.com]

If you are...who you imply you are...

I don't really care what you call me. He takes a menacing step towards her.

I just demand that you take me. Now.

[beatofherwings.livejournal.com]

*her smile turns sad as she shakes her head, looking up at him without stepping back* It doesn't work like that... and I'll stick with Hank, then, if you don't mind.

[alloy-avenger.livejournal.com]

Emotions bubble and boil within him, and frustration begins to take control. The human side of his face twists in fury and anger.

TAKE ME NOW! he shouts...screams....cries as he violently swings for her with one punch, and then another.

[beatofherwings.livejournal.com]

*she doesn't dodge. she doesn't even seem to move, but his blows miss. all emotion slides off her face, and her voice grows cool* You can't hurt me, Hank. And you can't command me. I'm not your average frail, physical being. I just am.

Now kindly curb your temper tantrum, or I'll take my leave.

[alloy-avenger.livejournal.com]

Of course, he is capable of more than punches. But he knew when he started that physical attack would be ineffective. He falls to his knees in despair, placing one hand on the ground and looking downwards.

Is there no reprieve? Is there no end to this madness?

His hand was splayed on the ground, but as his emotions oscillate from despair to frustration and back again, it curls up...though he does not move his hand. The ground, of course, succumbs to his grip.

...why can't you...

[beatofherwings.livejournal.com]

*squats down next to him, one hand playing idly with the dirt under her toes, the other burying itself in the hair at the nape of her neck* Because I can't. It's not who I am. Your life is yours, not mine - and you're still alive, even if you don't feel it.

[alloy-avenger.livejournal.com]

He laughs scornfully.

Feel it? Feel it?

He chuckles some more.

That's the very problem. I feel very alive.

And at the same time...I don't feel like I'm living at all.

He falls back on his knees, his face pointed skywards. He covers his eyes and much of his face with his hand. His human hand. A few minutes go by, but he eventually recovers, and stands. All emotion leaves him, as he was before.

Why are you here? To torment me?

Is it just me or does she do this to every cyborg she comes across? Seems like a recurring theme among cyborgs that I play.

[beatofherwings.livejournal.com]

*something wistful and gentle passes across her face, and she stands, shrugging* There's curiosity in everything. Even me. I like to know the ones I've met but never carried. The ones like you.

I cannot say for sure, but now I'm going to attempt to test the hypothesis... *looks around for more cyborgs*

[alloy-avenger.livejournal.com]

His voice carries a sort of grim smile in it's tone.

Oh, we've certainly met. We've met quite a bit, haven't we?

[beatofherwings.livejournal.com]

*dips her head in agreement* Many times. More than you're aware, even. Somehow, though, you always pull back from that final plunge. You're not afraid. I know you're not. What stops you?

[alloy-avenger.livejournal.com]

He'd never been confronted on the issue like this...as if he didn't want to die.

What are you saying? You're the one eluding me!

[beatofherwings.livejournal.com]

*shoves her hands in her pockets again, tilting her head, her tone growing playful* Have you tried cutting up the stream instead of across it? If you're really that keen to die, I don't see how you haven't managed it yet. Either the universe is against you, or you're just not trying hard enough. Thousands manage it every day.

[alloy-avenger.livejournal.com]

Madam Heroine, I have been: evaporated, crushed, incinerated, obliterated, congealed, and atomized into nothingness more times than RoboCop.

Thousands manage it every day; millions have managed it at my hands.

ht,

[beatofherwings.livejournal.com]

*she raises an eyebrow at him, eying him critically like a curator looking to purchase a piece of art, then shrugs* I'm out of ideas, metal man. You'll find me eventually. Everyone always does.