Prompto Argentum (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
argentuum) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sixwordstories2015-05-23 12:15 pm
argentuum) wrote in sixwordstories2015-05-23 12:15 pmEntry tags:
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Soooooo, no to the shooting him?
argentuum) wrote in sixwordstories2015-05-23 12:15 pm
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Plus, it's kinda going just a little bit overboard, you know?
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he might give a heavy sigh.]
Yeah, but if we just leave 'im here, there is a chance he will remember us, right?
But yeah, maybe a bit overboard. Maybe.
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he stands up, satisfied that their captive isn't going anywhere, and heads over to the other man's side. ]
Maybe. But yeah, good point. There's more than a chance, people don't really forget the faces of guys who rob them.
You okay? Your nose is still bleeding from where he headbutted you.
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the blond reaches up and swipes at the blood still running down his face, warm and sticky.
damn. he was really hoping it would have stopped by now.
he tips his head foreward to let the blood drip onto the floor and quirks a brow at the drops.]
Probably shouldn't do that. Do ya think there's some bleach around here? Peroxide? Leaving this kinda of DNA isn't the best idea. And I'm fine, pride wounded, but I'll live.
[ he shoots him a bright (if not bloody) smile to prove it.]
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he grabs a rag and starts wiping at the blond's face, gingerly dabbing away the blood. not the first time he's done this. ]
It's probably broken.
[ he can fix it, though. that's what he does. well, that and throw people around like rag dolls. ]
We'll set it before you go. And I'll get this cleaned up, rich guy like this, I'm sure the help's got some bleach somewhere. I'll take care of it.
[ he pats his shoulder encouragingly. ]
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there is a muffled noise as the blood is wiped away, but prompto doesn't move (aside from a small flinch because, ow, that fucker had a hard head).
the blond narrows his eyes at the captive before looking back to davis.] Nooo, not my beautiful face! Man, are you sure I can't kill him? I mean, just--
[ he huffs and lets his shoulders sag as he rolls his eyes. the look doesn't last long before he is grinning again.] Thanks. I'm gonna... try not to bleed on everything.
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he hums absently almost under his breath as he finishes cleaning up the other man's face, wiping his chin and lips too because yeah man you really were bleeding a lot there.
their captive grunts in muffled protest, but davis doesn't pay any any attention to the bound and gagged man. instead he lets out a little sigh and smiles. ] Okay, how about this-- we take him, then you can kill him. That way we at least get a little head start and they waste time looking for him, how about that?
[ having attended to his partner for the moment, he gets back up and looks around. ] This guy's got a lot of statues and crap, if you want to have a little fun while I find something to patch your nose up with?
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and yeah, he liked davis.
the blond runs his tongue along his teeth, making a noise at the taste of blood.
though, at the suggestion, prompto finds himself considering. a slow smile stretches across his face, despite the pain that blooms in his nose.] See! I knew you'd be good at this!
[ he wraps an arm around davis' shoulder, still grinning, before he spins on his heel and wanders up to a rather expensive looking vase.] That's perfect! In the mean time...
[ and, like an obnoxious cat, prompto pushes the vase towards the edge of the pedestal it was on, laughing at the high pitched noises coming from their captive, before it succumbs to gravity and turns into an impossible jigsaw puzzle on the floor.
the blond looks pleased.] Man, I love doing that. Now... target practice!
[ that is exactly what prompto is going to be using those row of fancy (and impractical) looking plates for. he grins at davis.] You are too good to me.
[ his laughter is drowned out by the echoing noise of shattering plates and dismayed noises.]
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maybe his luck hasn't been so bad, come to think of it.
the ex-paramedic smiles despite himself; prompto's enthusiasm is infectious, and it's not like he's really got any reason to hold him back now anyways; the more they trash this place, the harder it'll be for the law to follow their trail. ] Let's wait 'till we've got what we came for and know we're in the clear before we start saying what a good job we're doing, yeah? You say that now, you'll jinx us.
[ he's still smiling though, and he can't bring himself to scold the blond too seriously. Times likes this, it's almost like having the kid brother he always wanted. ]
Looks like you've got our new 'friend's' attention...
[ tilting his head towards their captive, he can't help but linger a moment longer, just to watch prompto toy with him. it really is like watching a cat toy with a mouse, the way he nudges the vase ever so slowly before knocking it off its pedestal and shattering it to pieces. the thing was probably worth a small fortune, but it's worth it just for the indignant squeal from the bound and gagged man. ]
Hey, wasn't it you who said 'what's his is ours'? And it's not like he's gonna be using any of this junk anymore. Might as well have some fun with it, right?
[ he's always impressed by prompto's marksmanship, so he watches those first few shots, whistling at an especially accurate one that takes out not just a plate but always goes through a window to take the head off one of the statues in an adjoining room. no way to tell whether prompto planned that or not, but either way it's impressive.
but he's got a job to do so he leaves his partner to his own devices for a few minutes, just long enough to gather what they need and come back. naturally, by that time most of the china collection is in smithereens. ]
Well, that didn't too long, huh? C'mere, let me set your nose right and then we can get going. Unless you wanna have a little more fun making this guy squeal.
ugh, sorry this took so long. monday sucks ; ;
case and point, the fact that he doesn't berate prompto for toying with their captive audience.
the blond laughs, carefree and just a little edged as he slowly strolls towards a rather gaudy looking statue of a woman in gold. he tilts his head this way and that before leaning his head back and musing to davis.] Is this supposed to be art or some kind of weird political statement about dressing in gold? A commentary on social status.
[ there is some bitterness in his voice, but it's swept away in the recoil of his gun as he gives the terribly dressed woman a third eye.] Waste of money, if you ask me.
[ the blond swings around, amusement curling his lips at the double shot.] Hey, it is! Man, you are just-- you get this, and I like that. There is no way that this guy could ever need all this, [ he wanders over to the gagged man and leans down, giving him a smile that was all teeth.] Even if he did survive, right?
[ there were times when all the hard edges and ghosts came crackling to the surface of prompto's facade, now was one of those moments. the amusement and good humour fades, leaving behind something else; dark circles and hard edges that someone his age shouldn't have. he shakes it off though, turning his attention away from the man on the floor and back to the hideous plates on the wall.
he knows that he can count on davis to get what they need, that he has time to take out each plate with perfectly cold accuracy. the pained noise he hears at the tinkling of glass on the floor makes things a bit better. by the time davis returns, there is no trace of the hardness.
the gunner huffs, something like a whine slipping out.] But that-- ugh! I think I gave him a heart attack already, and I might as well get this over with.
[ the blond acts like a four year old being dragged to the dentist as he shuffles over to davis, all wide eyes and resignation.] Why can't someone hit you next time. My face is too pretty for this kind of abuse...
not a prob at all, esp. after i was at work all of yesterday :c
he hasn't gotten around to telling prompto about all that yet, and it's not even so much about the keeping his secrets secret part any more so much as it is just wanting to enjoy this for as long as he can, one last friendship with a guy who can still look at him as human. hell, compared to the baggage he's carrying around, a little manic depression is practically normal.
so he doesn't bat an eye when prompto wants to have a little fun at their captive's expense. if getting teased and terrorized is the worst that happens to him before they kill him, he'll be lucky.
the dark-haired man shakes his head but smiles affectionately when his partner saunters over to one of the statues, an eyesore if ever he saw one, and in response to prompto's question he offers a gamely shrug. ] Honestly, I'd say it's just bad taste. Calling it political commentary would be giving it too much credit.
[ the bound man at their feet flinches at the gunshot, but davis doesn't. He cranes his head to get a good look, whistles appreciatively. ] Nice shot. Doesn't do anything for the resale value, but anyone dumb enough to buy that thing probably needs a bullet in the head too.
Nope. [ it's quiet, almost to himself, his murmured answer, and he doesn't move to stop prompto at all when the blond leans down to menace their captive. maybe he's getting used to this too quickly, but he can't help but feel like if this man spends the last few hours of his life being prompto's toy, that's still more good use than anything else he did in his life. He lets out a breath, sounding more like himself now.] Ten guys wouldn't need all this. Good thing there's just the two of us, right?
[ he's never asked, but he doesn't have to. times like this, he can see the scars behind that cheerful happy-go-lucky face prompto usually wears. he's been wanted for a whole lot longer than davis has, he's seen things and had to do things he, davis, probably can't even imagine. that's one reason why it's so easy to humor him when he gets all manic. but more importantly, he just likes seeing prompto happy.
a good few minutes of shooting things ought to cheer him up, davis figures, and when he comes back he's glad to see he wasn't wrong. the ex-paramedic chuckles a little at prompto's token protests, and on the way over he nudges their captive with his boot. just checking.]
Nah, he's still alive, just looks like he-- [Oh. Oh, ew.] Ah, hell. Looks like you made him piss himself.
[ it's almost like a lightbulb flicking, the way he goes from hardened outlaw to attentive medic once he's got prompto sat down. with one hand he steadies the blond's shoulder, and with the other he hands him a tissue.]
Here. Sneeze. Gotta get it all out first. [ to prompto's complaining, he offers a very rare smirk. ] Maybe he thought your nose would be easier to break?
/builds a pillow fort for you to hide in/ ew, work ; ; [she says as she shuffles off to work]
the blond rather enjoyed his company.
there is something that prompto will forever deny as a giggle at the look of utter heartbreak (terror? he isn't sure) on the mans face when one particularly horrible glass (or maybe crystal) figurine topples off a table in prompto's wanderings. it made a lovely, shiny mess on the floor that the blond spends no time at all admiring at all.]
Hmmm, I dunno. The rich like to pretend that they are in agony over the state of their excess. Like, 'woe is me, I have all the things, where is meaning?' and shit. It's really fuckin' annoying. And I think I have made it more of a statement piece now! Look!
[ he puts on a mock pose, like a gameshow host as he gestures grandly to the statue.] And now, the newest addition to the collection: What happens when you're a rich asshole. [ the grin on his face is radiant. well, as radiant as it can be with flecks of dried blood on his face of course.
a grin that he is sure inspires more terror than amusement in their captive when he leans close. there was a time when prompto never would have thought of doing such things. but hey, when imperial assholes like this guy completely destroy your life and murder pretty much everyone you love, things change. he pretends, more often than not, that he can't hear iggy in the back of his head muttering about how damn stupid he was being.
humming as he pulls back, prompto focuses on davis.] Good thing indeed. I suppose we should go for the less gaudy and absurd stuff. He should have something simpler somewhere, though I don't think we're gonna find cash. However...
[ he points his gun at a terribly basic painting on the wall in the other room.] Coffee says that there are some nice gems in there. Which would be lovely, I need a new diamond necklace to go with my arson outfit.
[ shooting, for prompto, was incredibly cathartic. he really didn't understand how people didn't enjoy it, or thought it anything less than. it was freeing, and yeah, a little dangerous, but whatever. the sound of shattering plates and ruined history certainly made his morning a whole lot better. finding out that the guy pissed himself made the blond nearly double over in laughter.]
Oh my-- are you serious? This is... [ he has another fit of giggles as he leans into the man again. ] I'd say sorry, but I was taught to never lie, sooo...
[ he just grins. then sticks his tongue out as he looks at his partner, dropping himself before him and tilting his head up to give him better access to his face.] Ew, we have to move him. I don't wanna.
[the blond grumbles as he sneezes, high pitched 'ow' sneaking out. this-- he really doesn't like this. there is another whine as he turns back to davis.] But-- whyyyy? I have such a nice face, it doesn't need rearranging!