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Tweak says, "buffy rocks!!"

inmyownworld (inmyownworld) wrote in vas_captio_rpg,
@ 2009-04-07 21:00:00

Current music:	Ben Folds- "You Don't Know Me"
Entry tags:	!complete, day 03, l lawliet, location: gas station, silent bob

Day Three- The Clueless Chump You Seem To Think I Am [finished]
Who: L and Bob
Where: The Convenience Store
What: L wants sugar. Bob needs to blow off steam towards a certain individual, and that individual just happens to be L.
When: Day Three, Early Afternoon
Rating: PG-13 for Bob's mouth!
Status: Finished

L's second day in his new environment was proving to be nearly as surreal as the first, but necessity was driving him outside of himself and into the unknown world to do something he hadn't had to for years: fend for himself. L certainly didn't consider himself spoiled; from the time he was about eight years old to right before arriving here, he had been fed and clothed and cared for almost like a machine that was being maintained. Those things were certainly not his own responsibilities when he was busy keeping his powerhouse of a brain running and crunching numbers faster than a computer while drawing obscure correlations with rare human creativity. Now, much to his chagrin, there were no computers and far too many humans around. Some, like Laura Moon, he rather liked, but others got on his nerves. That Bob fellow, for instance. A natural elitist, L felt that his genius and time were wasted on the obscenity-spouting lump, whose only response to L's patient and logical suggestions and deductions seemed to be... more obscenities. L had yet to get truly, publicly angry at the man, even though Bob had blown up a few times as a result of their conversations over journals, but he was certainly annoyed by what he perceived as simple-minded ignorance.

So, Bob said that he was pretentious. Arrogant. At least L knew those things. In his mind, Bob was too dim-witted to realize that he was dim-witted. He resolved to use his emotional detachment to his advantage and avoid reacting, should he encounter Bob at any point during his time here.

Approaching what appeared to be a convenience store of sorts, L pushed open the door and entered. He was aware that they probably didn't carry the sort of refined, rich and ornate things he was often given, but he was hopeful that they carried what he liked. Straight sugar, as simple as possible, in cube form. Stacking things like cubes helped L think. Glancing around, he started to look for anything resembling what his palette was set for.

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silent_bob
2009-04-22 07:56 pm UTC (link)

Walking out from behind the counter calmly, Bob sidled up beside L and the candy stand. Reaching out he took up a candy bar before turning to face L with a rather blank expression.

Taking a long pull, burning the cig down to the filter, Bob held it long. He knew he was about to be a giant asshole.

Exhaling, he blew the smoke right into L's face before heading back behind the counter to the stool there behind.

Hope you fucking get cancer, asshole.

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inmyownworld
2009-04-22 08:07 pm UTC (link)

L's eyes widened. He stared through the smoke at Bob with his naturally wide eyes, suppressing a cough, looking like he was literally unable to believe what he had just done.

No one treated L like this. No one. As Bob shambled away from him, L's fists trembled at his sides for a moment before he seized a pack of everlasting gobstoppers, tore them open, and tossed them so that the mini jawbreakers clattered to the floor and into Bob's path back to the stool.

Just in case Bob somehow managed to evade that pitfall, L armed himself with a box of Popsicles, preparing to pelt the man with them. Childish, yes... but L had never been good at coping with not getting what he wanted.

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silent_bob
2009-04-22 08:14 pm UTC (link)

It took a minute for the pinging of candy-coated goodness to register in Bob's ears. By the time he realized and looked down there was a scattered land of rainbow goodness right at his feet - little round jawbreakers were under his shoes and before Bob knew it - linoleum was under his ass.

Scrambling to get up Bob quickly fucking turned, seeing the little shit armed with fucking popsicles, Bob grabbed the nearest thing at his fucking disposal - all the fucking soft packs.

Taking them up, Bob started to fucking throw them in a barrage.

Then Bob charged. Unless he ran and hid, Bob was going to fucking destroy L.

Fucker.

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inmyownworld
2009-04-22 08:24 pm UTC (link)

L watched with a satisfied little smirk as the stocky man slipped spectacularly and hit the floor. It was difficult to predict what would indulge L's unpredictable and peculiar sense of humor, but even geniuses were known to laugh at maliciously premeditated slapstick.

Not that L had time to actually laugh. Almost immediately, he had a very angry Bob pelting him with soft packs and charging at him.

L did the most efficient thing he could think of. It took most of the wiry detective's strength, but he grabbed the candy sale shelves and tipped them over into Bob's path, clamoring to get nearer the door. The first lesson he'd learned about field work was to never, ever get boxed in.

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silent_bob
2009-04-22 08:34 pm UTC (link)

His fucking path was impeded as L fucking knocked over the shelf and started for the fucking door. That little shit was going to try and fucking run away. He was really fucking going to try and run off like a little fucking pussy.

Running to the far fucking wall he'd have to go all the way around - but the fucking fat ass could run when he fucking wanted to.

L may not have wanted to get fucking boxed in - but Bob was a fucking bull and he wasn't going to fucking stop until he either physcially had to or he fucking squished that little fuck and made him cry uncle.

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inmyownworld
2009-04-22 08:51 pm UTC (link)

L didn't need to be informed that in a match of physical strength, Bob would be able to squish him like an insect. If Bob was a bull, then L was a stick bug. He leaned against the door, reaching for a few rolls of fallen bubble tape before making a hasty exit and tying the gum several times around the door handles with nimble fingers. It wouldn't hold very effectively, but it would hopefully get in Bob's way enough to buy L a few extra seconds.

He took off at a slight jog, pacing himself, realizing that it wouldn't do to use all his energy up in a short-lived sprint. Though he was far thinner than Bob, he was also in far worse shape, and he tired quickly.

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silent_bob
2009-04-22 09:33 pm UTC (link)

From the other side of the store Bob watched as L snaked out the door and then fucking tried to tape the fucking doors closed.

Bumbling down the aisle with fury it only took him a couple of pushes to force the damn door open and be back out into the rapidly cooling day. Looking left and right he spotted the trotting L as he was headed off at a snails pace.

Charge! he screamed internally and fucking Bob was off like a fat-assed bullet his heavy coat billowing in the breeze behind him, the wind through his greasy locks and the perspiration thick beneath the band of his cap.

His steps were two to one in frequency and he was upon L like stink on shit. Grabbing the other's shoulders Bob fucking tackled L into the dirt.

That's right, the fat ass CAN run.

Fucker.

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inmyownworld
2009-04-22 09:55 pm UTC (link)

L's early childhood had been an autistic nightmare, but since then he hadn't been handled roughly very often. There had been a few close calls when he was a more tender-footed detective, and things had gotten a bit physical with Light a few times, but otherwise he'd been treated very delicately. No one liked to upset him.

The sheer mass of Bob, compared to L's skinny body, was enough to knock him instantly off his feet and into the dirt. He regressed rapidly to his childhood method of being handled roughly, going completely limp and catatonic underneath Bob's weight. His muscles slackened, he exhaled completely, and unlocked all of his joints, completely unresponsive.

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