misconcieved : Pete McCoy (misconception) wrote in gen_m_logs, @ 2008-06-19 23:08:00 |
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Entry tags: | jack murdock, pete mccoy, phil mccoy |
log: the McCoy Boys and an Unlucky Jack
WHO: Phil, Pete, Jack and some evil Mojo
WHAT: the airborne nanovirus kicks in at just the right wrong time
WHERE: downstairs in the labs
WHEN: right after this, but before this
Phil sits at a desktop computer in the labs. This one isn't really his, but it's an unspoken rule down here that it kind of is. It's got Spider-Man stickers on the tower. No speakers. The mouse has his greasy fingerprints all over it. Greasy because he's eating potato chips and talking loudly to Pete, "And so I says to her, I says--" Hey there. Jack is commenting on the Triplet's journal. Classy, Jack. Really classy. Phil doesn't comment back. Arguing on the internet is for noobs.
However, he does pull his phone from his pocket and quickly text messages Jack with "PERVERT." There. That ought to do it.
Pete had been under one of the heavier pieces of lab equipment, a tool kit at his side. He had to get this finished before Pop left and was propping it up with a hand as the other fiddled with the inner workings. Squinting at the details despite his glasses, he sounds a little distant as he worked, mind on... something else. "What did she say, Phil?," he asks.
"I don't know. I forgot." His lip arches. A little angry, a little like Elvis. "Jack's an idiot."
He pushes the machine up a little higher and slides out. Still a little squinty, he asks again with supernatural calm, "Why is Jack an idiot?"
"He's an idiot. He hurt my feelings." That's pretty simple enough. "He's probably on his way right now, to tell me how sorry he is. Or he's off trying to catch a glimpse of the creepy Stepford boys."
Yeah! Speak of the Devil. Jack should have just texted Phil back, but instead he's limping his sad pathetic little way down to the lab where he can hear those two very similar heartbeats. Phil. And Pete. Great. He doesn't want to talk with Pete around, but. Well. "Uh, hey!" he exclaims when he finally gets there, rather out of breath. He was closer to the labs than his room----he'd just been upstairs in the kitchen, really. "Phil, come on. Seriously."
Pete takes off his glasses as he hears footsteps coming. He was hurt and limping and that fit the profile. Crossing the room to arrive at the door just as Jack gets there himself, it gives him just enough time for Jack to speak while Pete remains eerily quiet. Not a word as they nearly meet toe to toe in a split second, probably the closest Jack's ever been to Pete in his life so it's easy to see how the invasion of space might completely distract from Pete's elbow snapping back, his fist coming at Jack's face like a freight train.
*WHAM!*
Honestly, Jack didn't see it coming. He was in the middle of asking Pete why he was so close and then stepping out of the way to let him pass----but then he's clocked in the jaw and it catches him so off guard that he stumbles and goes down like a bag of bricks. Pete's strong, after all. Jack can deliver a nice right hook, but... fuck. He'd be appreciative of the punch if it wasn't, oh, to his jaw.
"Jesus Christ----! Oh, my God, what was that for?!" Jack touches his face, checks his fingers for blood.
Phil watches with eyes wide. Then the punch is delivered and he bolts up out of his chair, "PETE!" BAD DOG. BAD BAD DOG. Phil nearly tackles his brother, arms around his shoulders, pulling him away just in case there's a round two. "Jack, are you okay??"
Squinty eyed, a little like Dirty Harry, Pete has just enough time to put a foot on Jack's throat to force him to stay on the ground before his brother intervenes to pull him away. he doesn't acknowledge his brother, his narrow-eyed gaze focused like a lazer beam on Jack as he says in a clear and emotionless tone. "Apologise."
Then he's pulled away, but not for lond as between the two, it's easy to forget that Pete... is a lot stronger. Phil's going to have to work harder to wrench Pete away from his choke.
Oh. Oh, wow. Oh, okay, this is scary. This is fucking scary. Jack puts his hands up at chest level in surrender, Pete's foot is on his throat. "Wh----I'm-----fuck, I'm sorry...!" He thinks he knows what he's apologizing for but he can't actually be certain because this was totally out of the blue for Jack. Jack could have finished off the last of the Corn Flakes or something; he's not sure. "I'm sorry!"
Phil is trying with all his might to keep Pete back. He gives him a good yank and moves in front of him. A shove to get his foot off of Jack's throat. He presses his chest to his brother's, "What is wrong with you? Stop it!" Don't make him call for Pop!
He's like a big brick wall, a juggernaut, a ... something. His attention is entirely taken up by Jack as his foot continues to press into his windpipe. The choked out 'sorry' shifts Pete's attention from one to the other as his eyes lock with Phil's. Normally, these are Phil's eyes and it's kind of comforting but right now.... there is definately something wrong with Pete McCoy. "Is this acceptable?," he asks him as if it were over an oversized shirt; obviously the wrong fit but will Phil make due?
"Accept-- what?" On what planet does any of this make sense? Did everyone just go crazy?! "Pete! Back off!" Phil raises his voice-- if this were anyone else, he would have taken them out by now. But this is Pete! This is his baby brother! This... is someone who doesn't get affected by his pheromones. This is hard for Phil. He's worried about Jack, but he's a little more worried about Pete.
A little more pressure. "Is this," Pete repeats with optimum clarity, "acceptable?" Now is the time because really, if you think about someone putting their full weight on a man's throat, it's not exactly a comforting scenario.
Yeah, Jack is choking over here. Just... by the way. He's on the floor and they're taking the time to chat it up and Jack can't breathe. In fact, he's at the point where he can't get much more sound out than a pained wheeze, and his hands are wrapped around Pete's ankle. This stopped being funny! Not that it was ever funny. It wasn't funny before and it's not funny now. Ohh, wow, hi, he's seeing stars. Is this what they call tunnel vision? He's pretty sure this is what they call tunnel vision.
"NO! I mean-- YES! Okay! Pete, back off!" He's trying to wiggle in between Jack's body on the floor and Pete. "What is wrong with you? This is the least worst thing he's ever done!" That's not the point right now, Phil. "Jack, you okay?" A shout, not looking at Jack. He's looking directly into Pete's eyes like he's some sort of snake charmer.
The features of face arrange themselves into the correct position to express sympathy, but it just doesn't get into his eyes, still narrowed as if focusing on something. "This is the least worst thing he's ever done," Pete repeats. "Then I can understand why you're not quick to forgive him."
His foot moves off of Jack's neck and relaxes it, just for a moment to loosen Jack's hold on his ankle. It gives him a split second of flexablity he needs to loop around his wrist and stomp down hard on Jack's hand.
Phil shoves Pete, but his heart is not into it. "Stop!" If some crazy supervillian came along and made Phil chose who lives and who dies.... Pete would be chosen in a heartbeat to stay with Phil. He realizes this as he's not rushing to Jack's side, but putting his hands flat on his brother's chest. "What's gotten into you?"
Somewhere along the way there's a SCREAM from Jack, and the sound of fragile hand-bones snapping. There are a few expletives in there, and Jack tries to tug his right hand in close against his chest. Pull his hand in to his chest, curl up, try to breathe through the fucking pain. But he's not really being listened to, is he? No.
Phil or no Phil, the scream is satisfactory for Pete. "I hope that's enough," he tells Phil calmly, narrowed eyes slowly sliding down to look at Jack. "And I won't have to do that again."
Phil shakes Pete, "That's not what I wanted! What made you think that's what I wanted? I'm telling Pop!" Yes, finally, he said it. His voice is slightly panicked. Pete is the only creature around that can make Phil freak out for real.
Hello? Hello? Jack's not sure what's going on. No one explained it to him. Jack has no idea this isn't normal behavior for Pete. Actually, he thinks it isn't, but he can't be sure. He doesn't know Pete like Phil knows Pete. All he knows is that he has a broken hand all of a sudden-----and he's just as annoyed as he is horrified. He's looking up at Pete with this wide-eyed, shocked, somewhat angry expression. "What the fuck?!" Ohhh, God, it hurts, it hurts. What the hell is going on? And he's being ignored while the McCoy brothers... do whatever they have to do right now.
Pete leans to one side of Phil momentarily as he's shaken. "You have one hand left," he tells Jack as this is a privilege, not a right. "Be quiet."
His attention is back to Phil as he explains as if this were merely another science experiment. "It might not have been what you wanted, but it's what needed to be done." Phil after all, has come back with bruises, a hurt jaw and apparently bites. A little violence might put things on an even scale.
Phil is shocked, his mouth dropped open and his face contorted. His hands go to his temples. Like his brains are going to ooze out from his pores. "Was this premeditated? Were you just waiting for me to call Jack an idiot?" OH MY GOD OH MY GOD. "Jack! ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?" He's only asked you three times now! Jack gets a few seconds of attention from Phil before he goes back to Pete. "Don't touch him. Don't do anything else." His hands press on Pete's chest. Please don't make him fight you... because he would lose.
Jack seems to know that he's not the focus here, but that doesn't keep him from shouting an angry, "NO!" from the floor. His voice is all raspy from being choked.
"That would be avoiding the problem instead of correcting it," Pete explains soothingly, through the timbre of his voice and the look in his eyes do not match at all. To Jack, he responds with a much firmer tone. "Were you answering Phil or speaking to me?" GO FOR DOOR #1!
"Answering Phil!" Jack actually squeaks out, jerking his hands up like Pete is going to hurt him again. His already-bandaged right hand is hanging at a bizarre angle. "God... fucking..." He can't help it, he's muttering a little, holding his hand back against his chest again. "I'm sorry..." Using anger to hide the fact that he's quite literally terrified. This is terrifying. Pete is fucking scary. Now he's thinking, oh, shit, did he snap at Phil? Yes. Is Pete going to kill him for snapping at Phil?
"There isn't a problem! Either way, it's none of your business." A little angry, but then he realizes that Pete very well could have something shorted in his brain. "Jack, shh for now." Hush, play possum. "--No, there is a problem. What makes you think you can just hit someone?" THIS IS NEW.
Wait, wait: has Pete EVER hit anyone before? Like... ever?
His answer is like crystal. "One of us should have a spine." A flick of his squinty eyes at Jack as he curls up into a little ball. "In fact there is no greater time tested evidence of definitively resolving problems than through violence." His eyes zero in on Phil. "We don't have a problem... do we?" That sounds hopeful. It even sounds a little more like Pete. in fact, for those in the room that can hear something like blood pressure at a distance, Pete's isn't exactly healthy right now, far too strong.
Phil is highly offended. He's mad. He's ... not going to mess with Pete right now. Hank didn't raise a fool. Know when to fold them and what not. He bites his tongue rather than defend his spine. "Hey, hey, guy. No problem. Thank you." Sorry, Jackie. So, so, so. Sorry. He shoots a glance at Jack that says 'WE NEED TO GET THE FUCK OUT OF DODGE.' "I'm going to take Jack and fix up his hand." No sudden movements. Nothing shiny in front of Pete's eyes.
Jack hesitates, but then he sits up a little, starts to back away. His hand is killing him, it hurts to breathe, his jaw aches. He is so tired of being in pain. "Can I go? Can I please go." Phil, you son of a bitch. No. No, Phil is being smart. He's not being an asshole.
"He doesn't deserve your sympathy," intones Pete like a recording of actual Pete set at all new levels. With that, he simply walks away, steps even and measured, his glasses left behind.
Phil notices the glasses being left behind and nearly says something. Instead he looks at Jack, "C'mon, let me take a look at that." So, that answers the question of Does Pete Like Jack?