route_1065 | THIS IS A STICK-UP

THIS IS A STICK-UP

Who: All workers in the Goldenrod Radio Tower, Rocket or otherwise. Also, any people who are touring the tower at the time.
Where: Goldenrod Radio Tower
When: Wednesday evening.
Summary: ROCKETS. ROCKETS EVERYWHERE.
Rating: G-PG13 for violence and possible language
Log:

ooc: Thanks for your patience, guys! Please feel free to make your own threads depending on where your characters are and who they're interacting with! Communicate with your fellow players as much as possible to make sure everything flows okay and nobody's needing to pull crazy time travel shenanigans to get everything done!
Mods will be available to NPC characters by request, so feel free to contact any of us if you need some help!

That's about it! HAVE FUN, GANG.

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Droog's eyebrows rose with interest. So stubborn, it was as if this man had no idea what self preservation was. Which, Droog was fine with, he hadn't realized the man he had chosen by chance was such a fool. Such a goddamn fool.

It made no sense to him why the other was fighting back so passively. If he didn't want Droog to do these things, did he honestly think stating what he wasn't going to do was going to seriously stop him? If he was so adamant about this, why was he not trying to fight Droog off? Maybe the tech knew he wasn't a match, but even then, had Droog been in his place, in a position of absolute failure... He wouldn't just resign to that circumstance. He'd fight against it best he could, try to turn the tables. Do something.

And yet here Otacon was, merely saying words and doing nothing. It infuriated Droog in a way that he had never really felt before. Letting that anger drive his actions, he placidly grabbed the other by his arm--forcing him to stand. That same dead pan expression, but for a moment, he smirked again.

For a moment, he looked like he was about to say something, but it changed quickly as he turned abruptly, slamming Otacon into a near by wall. By now, both his hands are present on the other's shoulders, or they were before a fist got drawn back--soon to find its place upon the already stricken face. And another... and another... before too long, he tossed Otacon to the side. Approaching the sprawled out man, eying him with almost a curious air before he places a well kept shoe on the tech's arm. Adding pressure as he continued to gaze at him.

"So what does scare you?" The question seemed almost out of place, maybe Droog didn't really want to know, maybe he did. Maybe he was just trying to toy with the man as he abused him.

When he was pulled to his feet, Otacon stumbled before managing to find his footing--which was immediately thrown off again as he found himself crashing into the wall. With every strike to his face Otacon wished more and more that he didn't have to rely on someone to help him or that he could just get away, but more than anything Hal Emmerich wished he wasn't so pathetic.

Snake, Liquid, please...! Damn it, where are you when it counts?!

Otacon cried out in pain when he hit the floor, sounding more like a whimper than anything. Even if he'd been fast enough to get up before his arm was pinned, he probably wouldn't have been able to stand up straight.

"--!" He opened his mouth to talk, but nothing came out except another quiet sound of pain as his arm was pressed underfoot.

"...n-not...scared of anyone that'll f-fight someone that won't strike back."

At this point, Otacon wasn't even entirely sure of what was even going on, never mind what he was saying. The only coherent thoughts in his head were I'm not going to give up and trying to stay calm when he was actually terrified.

Droog took a moment or two to stare down at Otacon, thinking about what he said. Not that it would really make much of a difference, or change what he was doing currently. Just it seemed this human believed in some sort of honor system with fighting? Only fight those who fight back? No. That wasn't how things worked, not in reality. His little fairytale view on things amused Droog though, if anything.

"Do you honestly think I should hold back 'cause you're too much'a goddamn moron to have any sense in self preservation? Don't make me laugh." The pressure increased as he spoke, grinding his heel into the pinned arm as he stared down at the helpless man.

It was apparent to Droog he'd be no help at all, thus he didn't need him. But while tending to the others who had been watching in object horror to what was happening, he didn't need this man to suddenly think he was a hero. Think he should try and rise against him. Narrowing his eyes as he stared down at the prone individual beneath his foot, halting the grinding he was doing for a moment to raise his foot. Just before crashing it down with a heavy slam right below the elbow.

Unsatisfied with it, he repeats the process a few more times before hearing a satisfying crack. Once it had sounded, he removed his foot, leaving his gaze to be the only thing connected with the man before turning to the others. Giving them the same cold look that had persisted at his features the entire time of the violent display. None even thought to rise against him, why would they? They were not adept fighters by any means, so why would they even chance trying to over throw someone who had no problem debilitating a helpless man?

They wouldn't. And that was exactly what Droog wanted.

"--?!"

Otacon cried out in agonized pain, the only thing keeping him from passing out being the repeated hits to his arm. Why, why was he such a coward? Why couldn't he bring himself to strike back against someone that was probably going to kill him?! And why, asked a small and bitter voice in the back of his mind, wasn't someone here to save him this time?

"...ngh...Li-"

No matter what he said, no matter how he tried to hide it, he was scared. Terrified. Lying about it, and badly at that, did nothing to change the fact. Otacon was worthless and he knew it. He couldn't stand up for himself, couldn't protect anyone he loved, and certainly couldn't save the world with Philanthropy. He would have found the situation hopeless, if not for the small possibility in the back of his mind that maybe it wasn't over.

'It's not over yet'...that was what he'd said, five years ago. Otacon could hear it as easily as he could back on Shadow Moses. There was one person in this city that wouldn't abandon him. One person in Goldenrod that he could trust and rely on. And now more than ever, he needed that person desperately.

Crack. Instead of a wordless scream of agony, Otacon focused on that one person and called their name with everything he had left--he'd survive this. There was no way Hal Emmerich would die here.

"LIQUID--!"

Edited 2011-03-20 02:11 (UTC)

Liquid had tried to call the engineer today, but hadn't gotten a response; this was a strange thing, because Otacon was usually prompt with picking up or calling back, especially at this time of day. He'd decided instead to go down to the Radio Tower and pay the engineer a visit instead, partly because he didn't have anything else to do, and partly because he wasn't the type to let his boyfriend's job get in the way of talking to him.

This was one of the few times that Liquid's stubbornness actually was for the best.

When he was barred from entering the building, his instincts, honed by all sorts of black ops missions, immediately told him that something was wrong. And if something was wrong, that meant that Otacon was in immediate danger.

This was unacceptable.

After stowing the bound and unconscious forms of the Rocket grunts that refused him entry, Liquid started making his way up the Radio Tower, searching for Hal Emmerich. Eventually someone was bound to notice that someone was knocking out their men, but Liquid was good at taking them down before they could call for backup.

Then he heard a familiar voice scream his name from not too far away, and Liquid was sprinting down the hall in its direction.

A moment later, the door was no longer an obstacle due to the fact that Liquid had kicked it the fuck in.

Droog was in the middle of getting the poor frightened Radio Tower workers to do exactly what he wanted when he heard odd noises outside the door. He had glanced at the door in curiosity, but merely for a moment. His attention returned to where it once was--however it wasn't for long. When his sneasel made a strange noise and moved so suddenly, his eyes snapped to the sudden movement just before the door came crashing down.

His eyes narrowed at the new participant to this mission. He had no idea who this man was, or why he even felt the need to push himself into the situation. Why he got involved.

Not that Droog actually cared. It meant nothing to the once carapace.

Standing up straight, he continued his flat staring at the blond, not so much as even uttering a word.

The sound of a breaking door meant one thing and one thing only to Otacon.

"L-Liquid--" Damn, he was too dazed to get up and act like this was nothing. The attempt to do so only made his broken arm hurt even more when it was moved. Despite the serious pain he was in, there was a faint smile on Otacon's already bruised face; he was more relieved to see Liquid now than he ever had been.

But there were more important things to take care of now. His voice was pained and shaky, but determined regardless.

"I--ow--he's got Asimov and the others. Can you...g-get them back?"

Hal Emmerich didn't condone violence, of course. But he knew when it was necessary.

Edited 2011-03-22 00:12 (UTC)

Liquid's eyes darted briefly to the engineer, taking stock of his injuries. The broken arm was obvious, as were the various bruises and scrapes he'd taken while being attacked by Droog. These things were fuel for his anger, which was already pretty damn fierce without it.

"Otacon, keep out of the way."

He released Huan from his Pokeball to deal with Droog's Sneasel.

Droog watched as the two had their exchange. He was silent, allowing them to say what was needed so then he could have Liquid's full attention. Calmly he made his way from behind the desk, though keeping his distance from Liquid--or as well as he could in the rather small room. When the other pokemon was released, Droog narrowed his eyes. He knew chances were this man had stronger pokemon--mainly for the fact Droog had been slackin' a bit with his own pokemon because of personal views.

Not giving it a chance to attack, he recalls Sneasel, eying Liquid with a bitter-cold gaze.

"I think we can agree that usin' these pokeymans is rather childish. And to be honest, not my goddamn style."

So here it is, an open invitation to a fist fight Liquid, what do?

"...be careful, Liquid."

He'd let this happen, but just once; this wasn't a fight he could stop. Not when Liquid was this angry and Otacon couldn't think of any better way out of the situation.

He recalled his Houndoom back into his Pokeball, his eyes never leaving Droog. Fighting with Pokemon was a necessary thing in this world, even if it wasn't Liquid's preferred method, but he was more than happy to fight the man who'd hurt his engineer hand-to-hand.

"Fine with me."

He moved fluidly into a fighting stance and, the next moment, closed the distance between them and threw a hard, fast punch.

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THIS IS A STICK-UP

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