three | line drive monster [unfiltered]

[strike_you_out]

[The phone is picked up, a call is placed. The voice on the line is, at first, dangerously calm—]

To the one who stole what's mine...

[—only to become a sharply hissed whisper]

I will find you.

[After being droned, humiliated, and murdered (and ultimately dissected by his attackers), this is what tips him into a rage: his missing bat.]

Comments

[deaths-heritor.livejournal.com]

((That should say much 'less' meaningful, of course.))

Perhaps you'd like to tell me what this is about? Droned one day, dead another?

[strike-you-out.livejournal.com]

...It's a game.

[Perhaps not the full truth but what "little boy" doesn't love games, Miss Susan?]

[deaths-heritor.livejournal.com]

((Little boys who are actually monster figments of imagination.))

How quaint. Tell me about this game of yours, Slugger.

[strike-you-out.livejournal.com]

Two-player game of chance...

[Hesitant. He folds his arms and continues in a monotone]

Player 1 bashes in the skull of Player 2 at risk of droning. Player 2 returns favor and steals item of interest from Player 1. Player 1 then seeks to regain lost item in order to even scores.

[shrug] Put simply.

[deaths-heritor.livejournal.com]

Hm. And Player 1's reason for instigating the game was . . . ?

[strike-you-out.livejournal.com]

Strictly vocational. [he doesn't skip a beat]

[deaths-heritor.livejournal.com]

Your job is to beat people over the head with a bat?

[strike-you-out.livejournal.com]

Ding ding ding~

[deaths-heritor.livejournal.com]

Not a very rewarding career for a child. I suggest you change lines.

[strike-you-out.livejournal.com]

[Slugger hangs his head, his shoulders shaking with subdued laughter. But when he next looks up at her, there is no trace of humor to be seen.]

He was suffering. I provided an outlet for escape. That's my vocation.

[deaths-heritor.livejournal.com]

Unknowingly desired assisted suicide? Hm. Still rather inappropriate for a child your age.

[strike-you-out.livejournal.com]

He was under the impression the world was ending.

[Pointedly not addressing the second part of her remark.]

[deaths-heritor.livejournal.com]

I suppose his world certainly ended soon enough. This concerns the hallucinogenic gas craze a week or so ago?

[strike-you-out.livejournal.com]

It might.

[deaths-heritor.livejournal.com]

[Susan, of course, understands that as yes.]

Reserve your pity murders for those who truly desire death, Slugger. Hallucinations are a different thing.

[strike-you-out.livejournal.com]

[Slugger comprehends the difference; however...]

An illusion to one is another's reality.


[If Susan begins to feel that perhaps this is less of an argument than it is his way of gauging her thought process, it wouldn't be without reason.]

[deaths-heritor.livejournal.com]

A temporary reality. By that logic, you ought to kill me every time I have a nightmare.

[strike-you-out.livejournal.com]

[smirk] Depends on how hard it is to wake you up.

[Joking? Serious? Wouldn't you like to know...]

[deaths-heritor.livejournal.com]

I'll keep that in mind the next time I have to drag you out of bed for school.

[strike-you-out.livejournal.com]

[suddenly indignant]

"Player 2" isn't exactly innocent himself.

[deaths-heritor.livejournal.com]

Two wrongs don't make a right. But in the spirit of ignoring trite idioms, feel free to elaborate.

[strike-you-out.livejournal.com]

[He'll remember to spout trite idioms at Susan the next time she and Teatime get into a death match.]

You know him. White hair, blue skin. [also, arrogant douche-face]

[deaths-heritor.livejournal.com]

. . . Pokey Minch?

To be perfectly honest with you, the greatest offense I can imagine him capable of is to have an asthma attack in your face.

[strike-you-out.livejournal.com]

I thought you were less gullible, Miss Susan.

[Tsk. She must've missed the time when Pokey went parading down the streets in that eyeball juggernaut.]

[deaths-heritor.livejournal.com]

[She probably did aka I did dammit I didn't even notice]

Aside from being a brat, of course, but that never killed anyone.