tosbox | making my way downtown

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making my way downtown

[The big issue here isn't getting fired. No, Spy will be fine for now, considering all that he's saved. Losing a resource as powerful as RED and Mann Co in general is a blow indeed, but Spy can get by. Right now, he's more concerned about living and making sure none of his loose ends catch up to him.

Most of the things he's taking back with him are either essential or expensive. The weapon magazines and catalogues sent by RED are still sitting in his old quarters, along with some leisure books and even some pieces of his old uniform. The suit has always been a part of his look, so he keeps some of it; they make for some decent padding for the wine stored in the trunk of his car.

With his tie slung around his neck and his jacket over his arm, Spy makes a mental checklist of all he needs. His life is pretty much stowed away in his wallet: bank cards, multiple IDs, cash, miniature cloaking device, plane tickets... He pats his pants pocket for the only thing that doesn't fit in his wallet: his passport. Not that he'll need it for the flight, but it's good to have these things just in case.

A tiny part of his brain nags at him, urging him to feel sentimental about leaving his workplace of over four years. But to hell with that - god knows this won't be the last he's seen of them.

When Scout hobbles up to his car, a mess of stupidity and arm casts, Spy is tempted to slam the door in his face and make him eat his dust trail. But, of course, the little mongrel has to pull the mother card and all of a sudden Spy feels responsible.]

I have a jet leaving in fifty minutes. You've got twenty. Get in the car.

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T'is'll be t'e last one for tonight.

[He steps away from the wall to pace the room, and also to put some distance between himself and the bed so the smell of smoke doesn't linger too much.]

'Ow difficult is it to find anot'er bed t'at t'ey must take one of ours? Is t'is some sort of punishment?

[ Scout himself circles the bed, inspecting it. It's the same one he had, he decides, seeing as it's got the same carvings he made in it with a spoon. ]

Best thing I can figure is they're tryin' ta get us to kill each other over it... Or I guess... Yeah, they could be mad about dat whole killin' dat guy thing.

[ He gets down on his hands and knees and lays on his belly on the floor, peering under the mattress to be sure there isn't any more sabotage. ]

Right, of course. Among ot'er t'ings, I assume.

[Put murder on top of attempted escape and harassing other inmates. He wouldn't be surprised if the two of them were on top of the prison's shitlist.]

Looking for somet'ing?

[ Scout would argue they're probably the most interesting people this town has ever incarcerated. The mayor was always just atwitter about them when he came to visit. ]

Makin' sure dey ain't rigged it or nothin'!

[ Duh! They haven't from what he can tell. He pushes himself up and flops on the bed instead, bouncing a little, experimentally. ]

All good... Man, dey took away my pull-up bar.

[ No sooner is he in the bed is he out of it, hunting around the room now for alternatives. There's a little shelf out of the wall, where Spy could keep books and whatever else, if he had anything of the sort. It took a lot of howling on Scout's part to even get some magazines, and those were pretty quickly gone through.

He hops up to grab hold of the shelf.... It whines and buckles at one edge, prompting Scout to yelp and promptly let go.

God forbid he didn't have a makeshift jungle gym anymore. ]

A smart move, for once.

[A little surprised that Scout thought of it first, but then again, Spy didn't think the prison staff were capable of doing anything more complex than putting keys in holes and firing mace.

He watches Scout with mild interest as he finishes his cigarette. Once he's stubbed it, he turns towards his teammate with his arms slightly open.]

Full of energy as usual, I see. Per'aps we could ease some of t'at tension. [He pauses to grin.] Wit' a sparring match, if it interests you?

[ What started out as a skeptical look quickly turns to a spark of interest. ]

What, you wanna go? With me?

[ He flicks the tip of his nose with his thumb, a cocky gesture, beginning to grin a little as he steps around the bed towards the other. ]

You sure you wanna be doin' dat while yer lungs are in recovery, Smokey?

It could 'elp t'e recovery process. I will admit my body misses t'e feeling of exertion.

[Sit-ups and push-ups provided a nice burn, but they lacked the release associated with physicality shared with another person.]

And while I can t'ink of more pleasurable ways to accomplish t'at, you and I are bot' familiar wit' t'e rhyt'ms of constant fighting. It might be more efficient.

[ Scout puffs a slow breath. Yeah, he knows what Spy's getting at. He didn't forget so soon - how the hell could he?

Nevertheless, he agrees that the fighting is more familiar, and likely to be liberating besides. Every now and then, you can still get a thrill out of knowing you're not fighting for your life.

Scout doesn't waste any more time or spare a warning, just shoots across the room at Spy full tilt, aiming a right hook at the other's side. He plans to pull his punches, but it certainly might not look that way. ]

[Spy will say again and again that Scout is all about instant gratification. He's all about speed and urgency and Spy knows this. When Scout comes at him without a warning, which is only slightly unusual since he likes to talk so much, Spy expects it, but that doesn't mean that he's fast enough to dodge it completely. But when the blow doesn't come with the expected bloom of pain, Spy exhales, stepping back.

He weaves around the punch, leaning his weight back and away, before springing back up to throw a jab at Scout's stomach. If Scout's pulling punches, so will Spy, but his hand-to-hand fighting style has always been dirty, and it's hard for him to break that habit.]

[ Well, it was about the surprise, or so he thought. Instead, it looks like Spy expected it, he just can't get out of the way. That's just as good, in Scout's mind.

He steps back and to the side at the jab to his stomach, causing it to glance off his abdomen in a way that stings a bit; he'd have avoided getting winded if Spy wasn't pulling his punches, but boy, that'd be a hell of a bruise. At the same time, he throws an elbow at Spy's face, a feint that might cause the other to flinch back enough to expose his throat for Scout's forearm. Of course, even if he isn't trying to send the other man's windpipe into spasms, there's still a bony edge in his arm that's not as yielding.

Scout's personal hand-to-hand fighting style is quick and brutal, a flurry of attack before he's trying to put himself at a distance. While he's strong, Scout knows his speed is his greatest asset, which is why he's trying to bounce back after throwing his forearm, so he can circle Spy. ]

Too slow, Smokey!

[Spy is also aware that all of his weight is in his upper body, so he has trained himself to stay low to the ground to make up for his otherwise unstable balance. Dodging will always bring him lower, so when Scout throws the elbow in his face, he bends at the knee, shuffling backwards again. It catches the top of his head, however, since Spy is taller than scout, and while he flinches, it doesn't throw him off.

It doesn't help with the circling, though, since he's still not fast enough to keep up with Scout completely.]

Using pet names now, hmm?

[He pivots on his heel to try and keep up with the circling, then he puts the rest of his weight on that foot in order to throw a sweeping kick at Scout's feet. It's doubtful it'll connect, and Spy's counting on that-- if Scout jumps over it, he'll spring up on his other leg and aim his knee at whatever's closest.]

Sure, if dat makes you my b--

[ Spy gets it right, he jumps over the sweep, though he also aims a kick at Spy that's supposed to hit the other man in the hip and throw him off balance. Instead he slams his heel against that oncoming knee. ]

Oh shit.

[ He stumbles back, eyes widened a bit. Whoops. How bad did that hurt, Spy? ]

Crisse de ma vie!

[As he'd said earlier, Spy's body is getting out of shape. His usual threshold for pain has been lowered, and the impact of to his knee gets him to the ground faster than he can spit a curse from his mouth.

Pissed and in pain, Spy uses his good leg to lunge forward, throwing a fist aimed at Scout's stomach. If he misses, he'll tuck into a roll that should get his back pressed against the bed frame.]

[ Scout's between panic and laughter ~~and maybe a little concern~~ to see Spy go down. He considers apologizing, but he's also got some sort of chaotic glee going on for just how much trouble he might be in, too. All things considered, he should probably be running, not taking a step towards the older man, fists lowered. The punch does catch him right in the gut, even if he did try to spring back at the last minute. ]

Sh--

[ He clutches his middle with an arm and stumbles back, wayward and barely keeping on his feet as he gives a dry heave, then another. ]

J-- [ A breath. ] Jesus, asshole, it was an accident!

[ He walks after Spy, trying to decide on the way whether or not he's going to kick the man while he's down for making his stomach try to regurgitate breakfast and bile for him. ]

[A wide, wide smile stretches Spy's mouth. He's asking for it with a smile like that, he knows it will provoke Scout, and he wants it. The pain in his body sparks something in him and god he hates Scout so much. He wants to grab him by the shirt and shake his brains out, pin him down and give him what he deserves. He craves that physicality in order to communicate what he chooses not to say, to communicate what he can't say.]

All's fair in love and war, mon chéri.

[Crouched and still leaning his weight on his good leg, he stays close to the ground.]

[ Scout rolls his eyes, taking the look and the response as a signal that Spy's still down to fight. Good. ]

Alright, pal, you asked fer it.

[ As he approaches, he swings a foot out, catching one of the stools at the little table on his toes and kicking it right at Spy. He suspects the other is trying to lure him in close for some sort of take-down, but he's not going to make it easy for him. Scout follows after the stool; if Spy doesn't move quick he stands a chance of getting pinned with it against the bed while Scout uses his free hand to punch at him. If he does move, which is what Scout expects, he'll have the younger man kicking after him. ]

[So they're using props now, are they? He dodges the stool, only to have Scout's feet in his space. The wind is knocked out of his chest when they make contact, but he'll be grabbing after Scout's ankles as they come closer, hoping to yank him off balance, taking a ragged gasp for breath all the while.]

[ All's fair, right?

He gets a vicious little streak of satisfaction to feel an actual impact, and to witness how it makes Spy reel. He's not trying to kill the other man, but he isn't holding back from roughing him up a bit anymore. The other grabs for his ankles, and Scout can't say he didn't see that one coming. His response is to set one foot firm and aim a knee into the side of the other man's head. If Spy still has the presence of mind to be yanking at him during that, he'll be pulled over and fall onto the bed. It's worth the little sacrifice in balance, though, he thinks, to give his comrade a reminder of just how easy it would have been to break his damn nose again.

Scout even manages to tut at the older man as he does it. ]

[While Scout's initial kicks wind him and blur his vision for a moment, the pain gives him a certain clarity, that fight or flight response kicking his body into overdrive. It's a bit close to being back on the field, but not quite, seeing as they lack the dust and the heat.

With their reestablished proximity and Spy's hyper-awareness of his face, he tries to dodge the knee to his head, but it still clips his ear and the side of his face. Having Scout's leg close to his body gives Spy easier access and he yanks as hard as he can. When Scout's voice reaches his ears, he tugs harder, throwing his weight into it, hoping to drag his teammate to the floor.]

[ Scout curses as he feels himself yanked down. Instead of falling harmlessly on the bed, he's being dragged onto the floor by the other's weight, exactly what he told himself he wasn't going to let Spy do. Damn it.

He kicks the other man, not caring where it lands, already trying to scrabble up from the cold tile by pulling at the bed frame. He's twisted in an effort to keep an eye on Spy and have access to him both while he tries to stand or at least heave himself onto the mattress. He snarls at the other in turn. ]

[That wiggling appendage in his grip makes it difficult to hold on, but Spy is about as stubborn as Scout is when he wants to be, and that desire to pin and dominate flares strongly in his movements.

Scout's other foot kicking at him blows air out of his chest again, landing on his side, and Spy responds with another gasp, its edges roughened with a groan of pain. It has the opposite effect of what Scout wants-- Spy holds on tighter. He can see what Scout is trying to do and he's not going to have that if he can help it.

Spy hugs Scout's leg to his chest and folds at the waist, trying to launch into a roll by springing forward with his legs with the intent of throwing Scout onto his back.]

[ Scout's about to haul off and hit him again when Spy rams him. He gets torn from the bed frame, half on his back, half on his side, all pissed off. He rolls onto his back, aiming a punch right at the other's ear and trying to push himself back with his free foot at the same time. ]

Nuh uh, asshole!

[Spy tugs hard again, heaving his exhale as he does so.]

More pet names? T'es pas imaginatif, connard!

[As if Spy is much better. His ragged breath rattles his words somewhat, not that Scout can understand him. The punch to his ear draws a yelp from him and he finally lets go in favor of clutching his head. The pause should give Scout enough time to recover, maybe even stand, but then Spy's lunging at his legs again, using an elbow to lash out. It's a bit of a moot point since Scout is faster than him, but he'll try, dammit, poised to roll if he misses.]

[ Scout huffs an aggressive breath in reply, turning into a ha! of triumph as Spy yelps. Scout uses the time to recover. He doesn't use it to try and get away, however, at least not like before. He uses it to push himself back just enough to springload his legs, at which point Spy will find his lunge is met with a tackle of Scout's own, two opposing forces clashing. Of course, Scout's goal is to try and pin Spy, or at least get in as many little hits over the other's body as possible while they're rolling around. ]

[Their clash knocks the wind out of him again, only made worse as he ends up flat on his back. His head flinches back instinctively as he draws in quick, shallow breaths. Then he reaches out to grab Scout by the front of his shirt with one hand while the other aims a punch to his jaw.]

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