regan frost. (contemnere) wrote in ofourowndevice, |
In all honesty if Regan had known Justice was out there somewhere he might have put a little more power into it. They didn't get along, they never had, they were too aggressive and volatile to coexist and Regan had never much cared for that whole white supremacy bullshit that the other man was so obsessed with. They'd come to blows many times over the years, more times than he could really count by this point in their shared existence at the hotel, they'd both spilled blood and done some real damage to one another, and the way things were going this was just going to be one more clash between two of the -- arguably -- most hostile occupants of the hotel.
Regan just tossed his own cigarette, knowing better than to keep hold of it when he might need his hands free. Anyone who underestimated Justice was an idiot and if you weren't ready for him he could do a lot of damage. Regan wanted to be ready to give as good as he got. Like hell he wasn't going to do everything in his power to take the bastard down a peg or two. When the other man actually opened his mouth and not only intentionally -- intentionally -- mispronouncing Regan's name but taking a not-so-subtle dig at his heritage, Regan's grip shifted on the club he was holding, tightening enough for his knuckles to whiten. If he was a sensible person, if he was a rational person, he would try to diffuse the situation. But Regan was neither. If he was either of those things he wouldn't be here in the first place, and he certainly wouldn't have deliberately provoked Justice with the barb about inbreeding.
Fuck it. Right now the sound of the other man's voice was more than Regan wanted to tolerate, and on top of everything else it was essentially the straw that broke the camel's back. Justice had moved closer, close enough that Regan didn't hesitate to take a double-handed hold on the club and just swing at the bastard.