Neil Dylandy / Lockon Stratos (I) (target_acquired) wrote in marinasylum, @ 2010-09-17 10:58:00 |
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Entry tags: | neil dylandy, ribbons almark |
[Log] Backdated to before the Pool Party
Who: Neil Dylandy / Lockon Stratos (I), Ribbons Almark
When: Early afternoon, Day 80
Where: Sector 5, Convenience Store
What: Neil happens upon Ribbons by chance, and feels the need to have "words" with him about recent events.
Warnings: Mild violence and language
Despite the news he received today from his brother, and the talk he had with Yuuki bringing up thoughts about his mortality, Neil was determined to enjoy the day. He was browsing the aisles in the refrigerated section of the store, picking up all the items he was going to grill up for everyone. Various cuts of beef, hot dogs, burgers, drumsticks, fries, all just got piled into the meal cart he was using. It stored everything well with bags of ice (since he didn't have a cooler) and was less noisy than a shopping cart.
The trip was so quiet and uneventful, with Haro left at home, and Lockon's communicator resting on the top tray of the cart amongst the bags of chips, cans of dip, and other assorted snacks.
That is... until he spied a familiar head of lime hair out of the corner of his eye, in the back of the store. There was no case of mistaken identity, either -- he knew it was Ribbons, and that he should probably stay away, but his legs carried him to the other man's side before he could even process all the reasons why he should not say what he just did.
"We need to talk." It wasn't a question. Not even a request. There was no friendliness or formality at all, as their brief greetings at school functions had been. "Now." So he'd better put aside what he was doing, or else.
The Innovade had been quietly browsing through various baking goods, looking forward to maybe whipping something up with Hiling later on in the day. The past two days, all things considered, had been good -- he feels as if he had settled quite nicely in the Academy and can even give himself a pat in the back for taking steps in making friends. He was thankful for the kind people he had met...
... Alas, it was those who already know him that are throwing wrenches into his otherwise peaceful existence, and efforts to redeem himself. He knows that voice, and he knows that tone -- between the two twins, there was only one who can carry so much anger and grudge.
In a measured motion, he placed the item he had been perusing back on the shelf and turned to face the former Meister. "What can I do for you?"
Stepping well within Ribbons' personal space, Lockon kept his hands at his sides, though not without considerable effort to still them. His eyes bore down on the other man. This encounter wasn't planned so, even now, he was on the fence between getting information and giving a warning.
"You can start with an explanation." For what? Lockon assumed he would know.
Assumptions, unfortunately, is all there is if Ribbons' puzzled look was any indication. "I beg your pardon?" He did not flinch at the approach, feet planted firmly on the ground. "I... would be more than glad to help you, but I'm afraid I don't know on what matters you would need explanation for." As far as he was concerned, he had not come near any of them -- unless Tieria, Regene or Anew were spilling their guts out to the rest of the prison.
"Don't play innocent with me," he snarled, not trusting that look one bit. "She's your sister, and you should be keeping a better eye on her, to make sure she doesn't cause trouble for us."
"Hiling thought she could get away with something like that, and right under our noses?" A sharp intake of breath. "What gives you all the nerve?"
If velvet could turn to steel, the time was now. All manner of genteel was lost in Ribbons' voice and eyes. "I suggest you stay your temper, Lockon Stratos. Outbursts of accusations will get you nowhere. Now..."
He has no mind even if the other man towered over him. "If you would kindly tell me what exactly is Hiling guilty of, then I will be able to help you."
Lockon's eyebrows rose at the shift in the others demeanor, but creased firmly at the implication his words carried. Before he could stop the thought, his hands had reached up and grabbed the man's shoulders and, shifting his stance, pushed him up against the side of the shelf. "You don't get to tell me what to do!"
A quick shake, to emphasize his displeasure. "You don't even know what the hell she's off doing? That's real smart, coming from someone who wants a truce." Yet here he was, causing trouble of his own, without consulting anyone else.
It was fair to say that Ribbons did not see that move coming, as his back came into sharp contact with the hard surface. His eyes betrayed a flicker of shock, immediately replaced with that of disgust and simmering anger, while his fists balled by his sides. "Hiling does as she pleases ; but with our Quantum Brainwaves held back by Acumen, I cannot monitor her every move!"
His breathing was picking up in an effort to remain calm. "And you must learn not to get ahead of yourself," His gaze pointedly glancing at that replaced eye. "And to speak like a civilized being." Words spat more as an insult than advise, Ribbons reached up to grip the taller man's forearms in an attempt to release himself from that constricting hold.
"I don't give a damn about how you do it," in fact, he'd prefer it if the QBW were neutered altogether, but Tieria would have a few things to say about that, for sure. "But it apparently didn't stop her from messing around with one of our haros."
His hands weren't going anywhere, and Ribbons' words were doing nothing to soothe his outrage; far from it, in fact. "I've been nothing but civil. You know how much I've wanted to get my hands on you, since I heard what you did to Anew?"
Leaning in closer, his grip tightening. "I don't know how she can even stand to breathe the same air as you."
Under the guise of a tightly shut lip, Ribbons ground his teeth. His hands did not lose their grip but his fingers trembled. He wanted to recoil, but he was quite literally pushed to a corner. He kept his silence -- summoning all his willpower to keep his promise to Lacus, to Euphie and to the Peregrine Mendicant and not to make an effort to throttle this man -- or to manipulate his own Haro to kill him. If being humiliated is part of penance, it was definitely not something he had signed up for. But he promised. He cannot and will not sway and lose everything he had worked for when he had gone so far...
"Fine."
... reluctantly and with a heavy breath, he released his hold on Lockon.
"I will speak to her. I have also given my word to Anew Returner that I will leave her be."
"Your word doesn't mean a goddamn thing to me," he spat, fists clenching tighter. Oh, how he wishes to just make all this go away; permanently. But he knows many people would never approve of that behavior, and it isn't worth pushing them away. "But I'll be watching your actions."
Pulling the man away from the shelf now, closer, so he can make himself heard even as he lowers his voice. There will be no mistaking his intent, and the vengeful gleam in his eye. "If you don't watch yourself, and your ilk... I'll personally remind you just why they call me Lockon Stratos."
A heavy pause, while he lets that sink in. "Am I making myself clear?"
With his personal space long invaded, taking threats like a nobody, held like a useless doll while he hurt under that grip like the beings he had toyed with and looked down upon, he had to repeat his good promises in his mind over and over, holding back flickers of color change in his eyes, so as not to crumble.
"Understood."
... well, maybe just at the edges, as he brought up one clenched hand to push away at a grip.
"Now let go of me."
Lockon would have loved nothing more for that facade to crack, even just a little more. Some excuse to justify lashing out; for putting Ribbons in his place. The fact he got little-to-nothing made him mad for other reasons, so he'll let go of Ribbons. "Fine." But not without pulling him close and then shoving him away, to the floor.
If he did anything else to him right now, it'd never be seen as a fair fight... Not that he believed any of this was particularly fair to begin with. His anger wasn't sated, but unless provoked, he could never explain himself clearly to anyone who would ask about what happened. With a huff, he turns on a heel and moves back to his cart. Whether he had everything he needed or not, this shopping trip was over.
The reaction quite literally threw the Innovade off. The force backed by the superior height and weight (and lack of sang froid) of the former Meister did not allow for a completely successful evasion. He was able to placate an otherwise disastrous landing, however not before feeling a strain on his left arm and shoulder.
In other circumstances, Ribbons would have made sure he had the last word and the last laugh. But as Lockon walked away, if looks could shoot a bullet full of cutter nanites, Neil Dylandy would be a dead man. With nary a wince and a word, Ribbons was back on his feet, back turned from the other man. In the midst of pain, a shadow of a smile played on his lips as he walked away.