Post by >V< on Sept 17, 2009 18:00:35 GMT -5
The best part about fire is that it cleanses. The pain and destruction are intense, violent, sometimes even terrifying. But from the ashes that are left behind, the chances for renewal make hope spring forth unabated.
KvK: "Fuck...renewal. That's what I was gonna do..."
Nate: "What?"
KvK: "I said 'renewal,' I need to get my car's registration renewed."
Nate: "Which one?"
KvK: "Well, all of them...."
He chuckles, drawing a confused look from his protege.
Nate: "Shit, that can't be cheap."
KvK: "Yeah, but fuck it....it's only money."
He pulls the stiflingly hot black knit cap off his head and tosses it on the table before him. The same table that has his booted feet propped up on it. He runs his fingers through his sweaty, tangled hair and exhales slowly, almost a sigh. His chair is tipped back, drawing disapproving glances from the old ladies behind the counter of this hospital cafeteria.
Nate: "I dunno how you can think about something that mundane at a time like this."
He takes a long drink of water from the plastic bottle he's been clutching in his jittery hands. He stifles a belch as he lowers the plastic container back to the table. His entire body shudders as he stares off into the distance, obviously wrestling with his emotions in the aftermath of the hellish experience of rescuing Jezebel Saint from that abandoned hospital of torture.
Nate: "Whoo..."
His emotional polar opposite lights up a cigarette, displaying complete indifference for the clearly posted 'no smoking' signs that are plastered on every wall of the cafeteria. He exhales smoke in twin blue jets from his nostrils, then licks his upper teeth slowly, noisily. Fuck, that's annoying.
KvK: "You gonna be okay, tough guy?"
Nate: "I dunno, I just....I've never seen anything that.....fucked...."
KvK: "Well, damn....ain't you ever seen any of those movies, with that old-ass man and the hot chick with the pig mask?"
Nate: "You mean Saw?"
KvK: "Yeah, or Hostel....that sequel had some sick-ass shit in it..."
Interestingly, the thought of the cinematic torture scenes gives KvK a shudder, when the thoughts of the all too real horrors the men had experienced first-hand several hours ago, apparently did not.
Nate: "The fuck you talkin about 'tough guy,' anyway? You're the one who lost his lunch all over the goddamn floor, and now you're sitting here with your feet up like it never happened. You're gonna sit there with puke on your shirt and dried flecks of it in your goatee and tell me you weren't bothered by that shit? I mean, Jezebel could have died, and you sit here and act like we just got done playing a pickup game of playground basketball! She's up there, hooked up go god knows what, possibly inches from death, and you're down here thinking about license plates!"
His mentor endures the tirade, and once it's over he sits quietly staring at him a moment, before dropping his gaze to examine the dried vomit stains on his black turtleneck sweater. Without a word, he stands and strips the garmet over his head and off. He uses the back of the sweater to wipe his mouth and goatee before tossing it casually over his shoulder. He adjusts the white tanktop undershirt that now is the only thing covering his torso, before plunking back into the chair and resuming his casual pose with his feet up on the table.
KvK: "You know, you could have mentioned to me before about the puke."
Nate: "Oh, for the love of...."
KvK: "I mean, the very idea! Here I was walking around with puke all over me! Some pal you are, buddy."
Nate: "Don't call me 'buddy,' pal..."
KvK: "Don't call me 'pal,' buddy..."
Nate: "Are we done?"
KvK: "Yeah, I think that pretty much covers it."
With a loud scoff of indignation, Nathan Korpi raises the plastic bottle to his lips once more. He chugs the last of the water before crushing the bottle in his fist. He sits staring into it silently for a moment, eyes tracing the jagged folds and twists of transparent plastic, obviously deep in thought. KvK looks at him patiently, smoking his cigarette, pausing every now and then to tap ash onto the tiled floor.
Nate: "What we just experienced was some of the most fucked-up examples of what human beings are capable of doing to one another. Are you honestly gonna sit there and lie to me..."
KvK opens his mouth to say something, but Nate's pounded fist against the table makes him close it again immediately.
Nate: "Lie to me, and say that it didn't affect you?"
His eyes peer out from below furrowed brows, a vehement gaze so piercing that it would turn most people's blood cold. KvK merely stares back a moment, takes the final drag of his cigarette, and drops it into the plastic tumbler on the table that's filled partway with melted ice and Pepsi droplets. He exhales as he speaks, thick clouds of blue-grey smoke obscuring his features as he leans back once more.
KvK: "Lie to you, eh? That what you think I'm doing? Hmm?"
Nathan Korpi merely sits in his chair, fists on the table before him. His unwavering scowl is locked on the face of his tag team partner, mentor, bully. KvK smiles, dropping his own hands to his lap where they slide into the pockets of his black cargo pants.
KvK: "Maybe what I'm actually doing is teaching you a lesson. Did that thought ever cross your brain?"
Nate: "Lesson?"
KvK: "Yeah, a lesson. Last time I checked, you were supposed to be learning things from me. Not that you'd know it from the way you seem to do whatever you goddamn well please, instead of taking my advice."
Nate: "Since when do you give lessons?"
KvK: "I like to think of it as teaching by example."
Nathan Korpi smiles. His fists unclench as he sits back in his chair. He puts his hands behind his head, interlacing his fingers as his gaze turns slowly up to the ceiling. He chuckles softly as he admires the florescent lights.
Nate: "Man, you are something else."
KvK: "Seriously, now pay attention."
Nate's gaze returns to the face of the wretched man on the other side of the table, if reluctantly.
KvK: "Did it bother me? Of course it did. That was some seriously fucked-up, John Gacy kinda shit. I'm a relatively sane human being..."
At that, Nathan Korpi scoffs. He squeezes his eyes shut, nodding an overenthusiastic nod of sarcasm at his counterpart's claim of partial sanity. KvK chooses to ignore the insult, for now.
KvK: "I did say 'relatively' sane..."
Right, that makes all the difference. Like you can be a little bit dead.
KvK: "Well, after what we saw tonight...."
Man, that's fucked up! Seriously. You assholes coulda helped those people, too.
KvK: "They're better off where they are now."
Nate: "You done talking to the voices yet?"
KvK: "Oh you go to hell, you piece of garbage!"
Nate: "You know what, fuck you and your goddamn voices..."
The Nordic Horror stands suddenly, reaching underneath the table to retrieve a backpack. He unzips it roughly, reaching inside to yank out the contents. He tosses the GIW.com Title belt onto the table with a bang. The heavy leather strap goes skidding across the table to collide with KvK's booted feet. He looks at the shiny gold plates reflecting the lights from the ceiling before turning his gaze to the face of his trainee.
KvK: "Your point?"
Nate: "My fucking point is that I won that belt all by myself. I did it without your bullshit 'examples' or 'lessons' or what the fuck ever you want to call your sick mind games."
KvK laughs out loud, pulling his hands from his pockets to clap them together with delight.
Nate: "I won it by myself without your so-called help, and I'll go out there and defend the son of a bitch without you, too."
KvK: "Well, I'll be fucked! The rookie finally grew himself a sack!"
Nate stands there fuming for a moment before snatching the title belt off the table and jamming it back into his backpack. He turns to storm off, at a loss for words but muttering unintelligibly under his breath.
KvK: "What'd you do, get yourself a blowjob finally? Shit, man...."
He trails off as the Nordic Horror turns back with a murderous glare.
KvK: "Use that anger, Nate."
Those four words startle the rookie. A look of confusion softens his scowl. He raises a hand lamely before turning to stride out of the place, kicking the door open on his way. Klaus vonKnorre chuckles, lighting another cigarette calmly.
KvK: "That'll be all for this week's lesson, kids. Remember to read chapters two through three, and complete the self-quiz on page thirty-two before next weeks class."
KvK: "Fuck...renewal. That's what I was gonna do..."
Nate: "What?"
KvK: "I said 'renewal,' I need to get my car's registration renewed."
Nate: "Which one?"
KvK: "Well, all of them...."
He chuckles, drawing a confused look from his protege.
Nate: "Shit, that can't be cheap."
KvK: "Yeah, but fuck it....it's only money."
He pulls the stiflingly hot black knit cap off his head and tosses it on the table before him. The same table that has his booted feet propped up on it. He runs his fingers through his sweaty, tangled hair and exhales slowly, almost a sigh. His chair is tipped back, drawing disapproving glances from the old ladies behind the counter of this hospital cafeteria.
Nate: "I dunno how you can think about something that mundane at a time like this."
He takes a long drink of water from the plastic bottle he's been clutching in his jittery hands. He stifles a belch as he lowers the plastic container back to the table. His entire body shudders as he stares off into the distance, obviously wrestling with his emotions in the aftermath of the hellish experience of rescuing Jezebel Saint from that abandoned hospital of torture.
Nate: "Whoo..."
His emotional polar opposite lights up a cigarette, displaying complete indifference for the clearly posted 'no smoking' signs that are plastered on every wall of the cafeteria. He exhales smoke in twin blue jets from his nostrils, then licks his upper teeth slowly, noisily. Fuck, that's annoying.
KvK: "You gonna be okay, tough guy?"
Nate: "I dunno, I just....I've never seen anything that.....fucked...."
KvK: "Well, damn....ain't you ever seen any of those movies, with that old-ass man and the hot chick with the pig mask?"
Nate: "You mean Saw?"
KvK: "Yeah, or Hostel....that sequel had some sick-ass shit in it..."
Interestingly, the thought of the cinematic torture scenes gives KvK a shudder, when the thoughts of the all too real horrors the men had experienced first-hand several hours ago, apparently did not.
Nate: "The fuck you talkin about 'tough guy,' anyway? You're the one who lost his lunch all over the goddamn floor, and now you're sitting here with your feet up like it never happened. You're gonna sit there with puke on your shirt and dried flecks of it in your goatee and tell me you weren't bothered by that shit? I mean, Jezebel could have died, and you sit here and act like we just got done playing a pickup game of playground basketball! She's up there, hooked up go god knows what, possibly inches from death, and you're down here thinking about license plates!"
His mentor endures the tirade, and once it's over he sits quietly staring at him a moment, before dropping his gaze to examine the dried vomit stains on his black turtleneck sweater. Without a word, he stands and strips the garmet over his head and off. He uses the back of the sweater to wipe his mouth and goatee before tossing it casually over his shoulder. He adjusts the white tanktop undershirt that now is the only thing covering his torso, before plunking back into the chair and resuming his casual pose with his feet up on the table.
KvK: "You know, you could have mentioned to me before about the puke."
Nate: "Oh, for the love of...."
KvK: "I mean, the very idea! Here I was walking around with puke all over me! Some pal you are, buddy."
Nate: "Don't call me 'buddy,' pal..."
KvK: "Don't call me 'pal,' buddy..."
Nate: "Are we done?"
KvK: "Yeah, I think that pretty much covers it."
With a loud scoff of indignation, Nathan Korpi raises the plastic bottle to his lips once more. He chugs the last of the water before crushing the bottle in his fist. He sits staring into it silently for a moment, eyes tracing the jagged folds and twists of transparent plastic, obviously deep in thought. KvK looks at him patiently, smoking his cigarette, pausing every now and then to tap ash onto the tiled floor.
Nate: "What we just experienced was some of the most fucked-up examples of what human beings are capable of doing to one another. Are you honestly gonna sit there and lie to me..."
KvK opens his mouth to say something, but Nate's pounded fist against the table makes him close it again immediately.
Nate: "Lie to me, and say that it didn't affect you?"
His eyes peer out from below furrowed brows, a vehement gaze so piercing that it would turn most people's blood cold. KvK merely stares back a moment, takes the final drag of his cigarette, and drops it into the plastic tumbler on the table that's filled partway with melted ice and Pepsi droplets. He exhales as he speaks, thick clouds of blue-grey smoke obscuring his features as he leans back once more.
KvK: "Lie to you, eh? That what you think I'm doing? Hmm?"
Nathan Korpi merely sits in his chair, fists on the table before him. His unwavering scowl is locked on the face of his tag team partner, mentor, bully. KvK smiles, dropping his own hands to his lap where they slide into the pockets of his black cargo pants.
KvK: "Maybe what I'm actually doing is teaching you a lesson. Did that thought ever cross your brain?"
Nate: "Lesson?"
KvK: "Yeah, a lesson. Last time I checked, you were supposed to be learning things from me. Not that you'd know it from the way you seem to do whatever you goddamn well please, instead of taking my advice."
Nate: "Since when do you give lessons?"
KvK: "I like to think of it as teaching by example."
Nathan Korpi smiles. His fists unclench as he sits back in his chair. He puts his hands behind his head, interlacing his fingers as his gaze turns slowly up to the ceiling. He chuckles softly as he admires the florescent lights.
Nate: "Man, you are something else."
KvK: "Seriously, now pay attention."
Nate's gaze returns to the face of the wretched man on the other side of the table, if reluctantly.
KvK: "Did it bother me? Of course it did. That was some seriously fucked-up, John Gacy kinda shit. I'm a relatively sane human being..."
At that, Nathan Korpi scoffs. He squeezes his eyes shut, nodding an overenthusiastic nod of sarcasm at his counterpart's claim of partial sanity. KvK chooses to ignore the insult, for now.
KvK: "I did say 'relatively' sane..."
Right, that makes all the difference. Like you can be a little bit dead.
KvK: "Well, after what we saw tonight...."
Man, that's fucked up! Seriously. You assholes coulda helped those people, too.
KvK: "They're better off where they are now."
Nate: "You done talking to the voices yet?"
KvK: "Oh you go to hell, you piece of garbage!"
Nate: "You know what, fuck you and your goddamn voices..."
The Nordic Horror stands suddenly, reaching underneath the table to retrieve a backpack. He unzips it roughly, reaching inside to yank out the contents. He tosses the GIW.com Title belt onto the table with a bang. The heavy leather strap goes skidding across the table to collide with KvK's booted feet. He looks at the shiny gold plates reflecting the lights from the ceiling before turning his gaze to the face of his trainee.
KvK: "Your point?"
Nate: "My fucking point is that I won that belt all by myself. I did it without your bullshit 'examples' or 'lessons' or what the fuck ever you want to call your sick mind games."
KvK laughs out loud, pulling his hands from his pockets to clap them together with delight.
Nate: "I won it by myself without your so-called help, and I'll go out there and defend the son of a bitch without you, too."
KvK: "Well, I'll be fucked! The rookie finally grew himself a sack!"
Nate stands there fuming for a moment before snatching the title belt off the table and jamming it back into his backpack. He turns to storm off, at a loss for words but muttering unintelligibly under his breath.
KvK: "What'd you do, get yourself a blowjob finally? Shit, man...."
He trails off as the Nordic Horror turns back with a murderous glare.
KvK: "Use that anger, Nate."
Those four words startle the rookie. A look of confusion softens his scowl. He raises a hand lamely before turning to stride out of the place, kicking the door open on his way. Klaus vonKnorre chuckles, lighting another cigarette calmly.
KvK: "That'll be all for this week's lesson, kids. Remember to read chapters two through three, and complete the self-quiz on page thirty-two before next weeks class."
