|
|
Post by Iwirt 1655/Visser 24 on Feb 2, 2009 9:25:50 GMT -8
Iwirt had decided to take some time in the Yeerk pool while Ryan's damaged knee underwent surgery. Now, hours later, it was better than it had ever been, and Ryan was heading back to get Iwirt.
On second thought, I'm gonna get a drink or two and come back in an hour or so...Iwirt never lets me drink...drives me crazy...
With that, he managed to leave and head to the nearest bar.
He sat at the bar, drinking his beer slowly. He didn't want to get drunk, he just wanted to down a few.
"This, is how you live..."
|
|
|
|
Post by guraff on Feb 2, 2009 13:23:03 GMT -8
Rook was enjoying one of his few free days. Every now and then, Guraff let him go out into the world. Of course, he had to wear a special bracelet that would shock him if he went too far from the Yeerk Pool, but it was worth the minor inconvenience just to have some quiet in his head for once. So Rook did what he always did when he had a moment to himself. He skipped (figuratively) over to the nearest bar to have a strong drink.
Rook sat down at the bar. "Give me something with Russian on the label," he ordered. Then he glanced over and saw someone he couldn't help but recognize. Irwit 1266; Visser 24. "Enjoying yourself, slug?"Rook demanded. He could afford to talk like that. What Yeerk would dare damage one of Guraff's hosts? "That's right; drink until you forget what you are. Just stay away from the martinis. I'd hate to see you get into some salt."
|
|
|
|
Post by Iwirt 1655/Visser 24 on Feb 2, 2009 13:29:41 GMT -8
Ryan looked over at the man he recognized as Rook, Guraff's human host. And Ryan wasn't about to take crap from anybody, no matter who they are.
"Look, you. I'll have you know my so called "slug" isn't here right now. But, you know? Maybe I should be more considerate, after all, I chose this life." He sipped his beer.
"But, I didn't expect you to know I took the night off. After all, while I am my Yeerk's ally, you are nothing more than a puppet. While I stand at Iwirt's side, Guraff's got his hand shoved up your..."
He set his beer down, letting his sentence trail off. He was dying for some decent action. It had been far to long since Ryan had gotten into a fight on his own.
|
|
|
|
Post by guraff on Feb 2, 2009 13:41:19 GMT -8
For the first time in a long while, Rook did something on his own. He picked up his bottle and smashed it on the bar. "You wanna see what happens to traitors like you? Better to die a slave than live a traitor." Rook stood up, about as tall as a Hork-bajir. "You're not crawling back to your precious master tonight. if there's one thing Guraff and I have in common, it's that we both agree: worms like you are worse than the slugs."
|
|
|
|
Post by Iwirt 1655/Visser 24 on Feb 2, 2009 13:46:12 GMT -8
When Rook stood up, Ryan did the same. He finished off his beer as Rook broke his bottle on the counter. Ryan was no small man, but Rook was almost a foot taller than he. No matter. Ryan had taken down guys this size while he was in prison. And he was only 19 then.
"You have no idea who I am. Where I came from. If you lived the life I have, you'd be begging someone to live it for you. And he's not my master. I'm not a slave, like some."
He shot Rook an evil grin, one that Iwirt used a lot.
"What's the matter, big guy? You wanna fight? You just got one!"
With that, Ryan broke his empty beer bottle...upside Rook's temple.
|
|
|
|
Post by guraff on Feb 2, 2009 13:57:40 GMT -8
Rook stumbled back because no matter how big you are, a bottle broken on your temple still hurts and makes you bleed badly. But he was used to pain; at least if he was feeling pain he was still fighting. He recovered himself and snatched up a bar stool. He held it in one hand like a club. His broken bottle was in the other. "I don't care who you are or what your life was like. It is better to live a slave than die as a traitor. A lesson you're about to learn, little man." Then he swung the stool at Ryan's head.
|
|
|
|
Post by Iwirt 1655/Visser 24 on Feb 2, 2009 14:00:57 GMT -8
Ryan ducked under the stool that was aimed at his head. While still in this position, he lunged, throwing all of his weight into Rook's left knee.
|
|
|
|
Post by guraff on Feb 2, 2009 14:32:00 GMT -8
He drove his knee into Ryan. Rook hurt himself a bit, but he was sure he injured Ryan, too. Then he swung his stool down at the traitor. His aim was probably a bit off, since being hit in the knee made him stumble and put him off balance, but he was still confident that he could hit the smaller man.
|
|
|
|
Post by Iwirt 1655/Visser 24 on Feb 3, 2009 9:45:02 GMT -8
Ryan caught a knee to the shoulder, which sent him back a little bit. Then, the stool to his back took him all the way down.
He hopped up, cracked his neck, and threw his leather jacket to the ground, revealing a tight black sleeveless shirt.
He looked around to see that everyone else had cleared the bar. On the ground near his feet was a cane someone left behind.
He picked it up by the handle. "Man, this is nice...."
He then jabbed it into Rooks' stomach, and followed up by swinging it like a baseball bat at the bigger man's head.
|
|
|
|
Post by guraff on Feb 3, 2009 11:07:16 GMT -8
The jab to the stomach only hurt Rook a little bit; he was trained to take a blow. he brought up his stool to block the cane. The blow, though, made his hand go a bit numb and he dropped the stool. No matter. Rook lunged at Ryan with his broken bottle, one hand ready to grab anything the smaller man could throw at him or poke him with.
|
|
|
|
Post by Iwirt 1655/Visser 24 on Feb 3, 2009 11:32:36 GMT -8
Ryan was stunned for a bit at Rook's speed and recovery, but did not forget about the bottle. When Rook lunged, Ryan made sure to avoid it. With the cane in his left hand, he swung it at Rook, prepared to follow up with a right uppercut just in case....
|
|
|
|
Post by guraff on Feb 3, 2009 11:49:43 GMT -8
Rook caught the cane in his open hand, but the blow to the jaw hit him full on. Rook stumbled a bit, his momentum carrying him past Ryan. He stumbled into the wall and spun around. Then he noticed something on the wall nearby: an old hunting trophy; the head of a deer mounted to the wall. Rook grabbed it and broke off an antler. He pointed it at Ryan. "I'm gonna enjoy this."
|
|
|
|
Post by Iwirt 1655/Visser 24 on Feb 3, 2009 12:00:19 GMT -8
Ryan looked at the cane. It wasn't going to be enough, so he snapped it across his knee and threw it behind him. The sound of the window behind him shattering soon followed.
He glanced over to see the abandoned pool table. Picking up one of the cues off of the floor, he held it like a staff, and spun it like an expert.
"You wanna do this? Let's do this right..."
Just because he could, he set the pool stick down and flipped the pool table over.
Picking his weapon of choice back up, he awaited an attack.
|
|
|
|
Post by guraff on Feb 3, 2009 12:28:15 GMT -8
Rook dropped into the stance of a professional swordsman. You don't spend years as Guraff's host without becoming an expert. Rook advanced on Ryan. When he was still a few feet away, he hooked his foot under a chair and kicked it at the voluntary. While the chair was still in the air, he rushed his enemy.
|
|
|
|
Post by Iwirt 1655/Visser 24 on Feb 3, 2009 12:36:20 GMT -8
Ryan sidestepped, the stool barely grazing him. He managed to avoid the antler, but Rook caught him full force, sending both men to the ground. Ryan swung the pool cue as hard as he could.
It made a sickening crack and snapped across Rook's back.
He dropped what was left of it, and started throwing punches, the two of them still on the ground.
|
|
