voice; some time after arrival

[longshadow]

[ It's a slow, careful drawl, like someone's trying very hard to make themselves clearly understood. ]

Not that I don’t appreciate free jewelry full of tiny talking voices,

[ He doesn't. ]

But I don't suppose that none of you know how to get this thing off?

I’ve tried prying it, and cutting it, and slamming it on the wall a few times, and even asking it real polite, but no dice. Melting it's off the table, I like my skin, but otherwise all suggestions are. [ A huff of breath. ] Seriously welcome.

Comments

OH MY GOD

[ex_forcechoke292]

Some of us get along just fine with prosthetics, you're the one complaining.

[The hypocrisy can be heard light-years away, likely.]

And not that it's any of your business, but it's doing just fine.

[longshadow]

Man, no one here wants to hear about your fucked-up prosthetic dick.

[ How's that pretending-to-be-nobility thing going, Vor. ]

[ex_forcechoke292]

[It gets a laugh, at least. Though that smug tone doesn't really dissipate.]

That fixation says more about your insecurities than it does mine. Honestly, you're more transparent than a youngling.

[WHICH SAYS NOTHING AT ALL ABOUT HIM, THANK YOU.]

[longshadow]

Kid, how old even are you?

[ The ship's been more than half human so far. He'd stake good money that this guy's under fifty. ]

Does your ma know you're on this? Isn't it a little past curfew?

[ It feels weird, to use the Common word. He can't remember the last time he did. But there's no point in trying to insult someone if they don't understand you. ]

[ex_forcechoke292]

KID?

[He already sounds more than offended, but then...WOAH WOAH WOAH.]

Don't bring my mother into this.

[longshadow]

[ The meows are reaching fever pitch. There's a tinny purring sound, and the ding of a successfully-watered bonsai cat. He sounds inordinately pleased with himself. ]

Why not? She sure brought me into it, the other night.

[ex_forcechoke292]

Don't talk about things you know nothing about.

[Oh, did we touch a nerve? Not that it's difficult to do. After a short pause, and a drawn out inhale, perfectly audible:]

You aren't even worth my time.

[Just give him a reason.]

[longshadow]

Kiddo, everyone on this thing knows about her, if you catch what I'm saying.

[ It's a sore spot of his own. It's why he knows where to bite. And right now, he really, really needs to bite something. Even if it's just the dust. ]

Or didn't she ever get around to that talk?

[ Ding. Ding. Okay, the cat game has. You know. Some appeal. ]

Anyway. If your time means so little, guess you'll be steering clear of the empty room near Moro.

[ meet me in the pit fucker ]

[ex_forcechoke292]

She's dead, sithspawn, drop it.

[Except it's far too late for that. And as much as he keeps trying to drop it--he knows the look he'll get from Obi-Wan if he hears about this, he knows this is clear-cut goading--how can he when he's not even the one continually pushing the point.

It's a button that anyone who knows him knows he has. And it's steered away from for a damn good reason.]

Can't imagine when I'd have time to bother.

[name a time shitlord]

[longshadow]

[ the fuck is a sith ]

Join the club, asshole. Half an hour.

[ The sound of cracking knuckles is a whole lot less ominous when it's sealed with a loud NYAA~. Someone found the dating game too. ]

ACTION: aka, it's pit time, bitch

[ex_forcechoke292]

[The resulting half hour only serves to wane his anger a bit, but by now, it's wholly the principle of the thing: no one insults his mother's memory like that, whether inundated with very likely personal insecurities or no. He's justifiably offended, or so he thinks (which isn't much in this situation, or he wouldn't be in it), but the rage has abated somewhat. He's got to get brownie points on that front, right?

The room is on his own floor, and doesn't take long to find. He leaves his heavy robe in his own, it would only get in the way, and whatever happens, there's no quartermaster here to replace it, and he's not terribly keen on the idea of doing it himself. (Or getting the damn thing hooked around his ankles.) Besides that, he comes armed, just in case.

He's used to duels of a special sort, but if it comes down to fists...

It seems the room isn't empty when he finds it. He isn't sure what he expected from the voice on the other end of the MID, but it...definitely wasn't this.]

So. Are we going to start with what in the hells your problem is, or just straight to the punch?

[HA. HA. See, it's funny, because...]

this seems up your alley musically, + thematic: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XEVjpbRFaB8

[longshadow]

[ He's been careful to tuck his own knife away, hidden in a loose ceiling panel of their bathroom. Situations like this have a way of escalating. Vorrick might be looking forward to their little throwdown, but he'd rather not get stabbed if it all goes sideways.

What he has done is lift little sand from the gardens, and a metal tray from the cafeteria. He's considered slipping just around the corner of the doorway, and smashing it into Anakin's face upon arrival — but that's the kind of thing that's too easy to go wrong, on a residential deck with an unknown target. The last thing that he needs is to bash some poor sweet old lady's nose all broke, and just be standing there like a jackass when his real opponent shows up.

So instead he's standing there like a jackass in the middle of the room, his sleeves carefully rolled down over bony arms. Vorrick bobs on his toes, chin tipping owlishly as he looks Anakin over.

Human: Check. Young: Check. Looks nutty as a fucking squirrel: About half there. ]


Hope you hit better than you talk shit. [ He snorts, shaking his head. When in doubt, don't make the first move. ] You gonna get on with this, or you want to get a good cry in first?

i love this song how dare you

[ex_forcechoke292]

[He knows this continues to be unnecessarily goading, that he should walk away, and still very much has a chance to do so. But Anakin Skywalker does not back down. (Especially when he has no one here to temper his anger and proclivity for poor decision making.)

Anakin has to keep the memory of his mother at the forefront, not something he's keen on doing much, but it stokes the heat eating away at his chest that also, conveniently, dissolves any conscience he might have had regarding the whole thing.

He keeps the lightsaber clipped at his belt; this guy doesn't look armed, but that doesn't mean he's willing to forego the possibility of something hidden. Anakin doesn't answer, he just sneers as he approaches, the quips suddenly making this feel too familiar, too easy to talk down.

This isn't a disagreement. This is a point of pride.

He takes the first hit.]

[longshadow]

[ He ducks a little to the left, stepping into the punch. There's a grunt of pain as it lands, a hell of a bruise that's going to make in a few minutes, but he keeps moving, leading in with an elbow that just whips back around to —

— Spray sand out from the sleeve edge, straight towards Anakin's eyes. He doesn't wait to see if it's worked, doesn't stop moving to try and kick vicious and low at the back of his knees, stomp on a foot; anything that might have a slip of a chance at landing.

He doesn't want to prove shit, he just wants to hurt something. If that ends up including his own face, so very well be it. Anakin's likely to land anything he throws if it means a shot at Vorrick getting closer to scoring his own hits. ]