realityshifted | (no subject)

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metalocalypse (d1) nathan explosion

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[Nathan's been a somewhat vocal presence on the plane, hasn't he? Talking, fighting monsters, joining up with two other rich sheltered assholes to be part of a who the hell knows what brigade. Well, here he is again. Though something is a bit off.

He's pacing in what is an obvious fury. Whatever he's mad about, it's obviously overridden his desire to keep himself looking presentable: his hair is a mess, wild and strewn over his face and shoulders with little care. His nail polish (which somehow he kept it in perfect condition, he must have some hidden somewhere on him) is chipped and a ruined.

A snarl is carved on his face and his stare darts around, looking for something or someone to focus on.

In fact, his anger almost seems oppressive; that whatever it is gnawing at him could choke anyone who approaches with sheer intensity alone. Oh yes, something is definitely off with Nathan today.]

I'm going to fucking kill whoever did this, you hear me? You better pray to whatever- whatever gods you believe in that I don't find you...

[He doesn't appear to be addressing anyone in particular so much as just threatening everything around him without really realizing he's saying it, not thinking it.]

You'll pay for this.

((OOC: Also, if you tag this, either leave me your AIM name or make sure you have messages enabled on your journal. Thank you.))

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[As with all emotionally disastrous things in her vicinity, Sirkka appears with her hands folded across her stomach, the picture of calm authority.]

Stop.

[Nathan focuses directly on Sirkka. He wishes he could stop, but at the moment, he is worked into an angry frenzy over something.

He points at her.]

No. Fuck you.

[Nathan might have a nasty aura of nastiness, but Sirkka's own emotions are polarizing, transitioning to something colder. In fact the temperature around them drops a few degrees like someone is sucking all the energy out of the air.

This is the second confrontation she's had like this and she's tired of it.]

What are you trying to do?

I don't fucking know! I'm just- I am fucking tired of this place, I'm tired of this fucking 'oh you can't go home' bullshit, and I swear to god, I'm going to-

[His yelling cut short as he decides to roar, rip one of his battle axes from his belt, and throw it with all his might into the blackness of space. Take that, space! Yeah, he'll teach you a lesson in messing with fucking Nathan Explosion!]

[Oh sweet, axe tossing.]

I don't care how many people you've killed out of frustration before. I won't let you do that here.

[He stops for a moment, because what?]

I haven't- I haven't killed anybody... not, not on purpose.

[It's the addition of the last bit that makes it true. Nathan knows he's caused people to die. But that moment of the closet thing to clarity and calmness he can attain passes quickly as he goes tense, as if ready to break the shit out of something.

He highly regrets having not been in a specific location because goddamn does he want to break some shit.]

You will if you don't stop yourself! [Whoa, Sirkka's yelling. After that little outburst, she, too, looks perplexed. And then it's back to a cold anger, simmering just beneath the surface.] Do you even care about the people you've killed by accident? [That's wrong, she can't just toss out that kind of accusation, she /can't/--] How do you go on living as if the only thing you care about is where you'll get your next bag of crisps?

[He goes livid at those questions, and is almost on the verge at leaping at her to throttle her neck.]

No, I fucking don't! I don't feel guilty, I can't feel guilty! Because they're fucking dead! Feeling guilty isn't going to make them undead! [He pauses.] Uh, undead in the re-alive... sense. Not the zombie sense. Zombies... are cool but [and back to angry yelling!] they aren't the fucking point! And you know, I fucking care about stuff, and it's none of your damn business!

I... [Wow, that's actually kind of right, but it's replaced with MOAR ANGER.] Of course it's my business. I know everything that goes down on the Plane. I feel it. I can tell there's blood on your hands even if you can't see it. And that's why even if someone acts like they're a perfect little angel, I'll always know. Every time. Without fail.

Good for fucking you.

[He crosses his arms in the ultimate act of Nathan anger and disapproval.]

I don't care. So what if you fucking know my fans commit mass suicide?! So what if you know about all the fucking accidents that go on at my shows? Do I look like I care?

How completely insensitive and selfish of you.

[Sirkka doesn't approach, but she doesn't back down either.]

[Nathan finally snaps and he lunges at Sirkka.

PS in my head, he's totally watching this and wonder wtf happened why is he going all nuts here what.]

[Sirkka doesn't scream. She doesn't even move. All she does is hold up her hand, and a translucent purple barrier forms right in front of Nathan. Maybe smacking right into a wall will bring him back to his senses.

If it doesn't, there's always the ground rippling below him, as if gravity itself is intensifying, trying to suck him into the floor, into some vacuum of space he can't see nor pursue.

jesuschristgodmode]

[It doesn't. He slams into it with force, and his only response is a low, gutteral growl- but gravity is tugging at him, as it amplifies, it becomes apparent he's applying all his strength to stay on his feet even though it's pushing him down.

He glares at her and roars in an utterly inhuman fashion; angry and violent and animalistic.

He's strong, but I don't quite think he's strong enough to resist gravity, and his knees buckle.]

[Sirkka is roared at! But she doesn't care. Her eyes flash white-purple, the barrier disappearing, her hands falling back to her sides. There's nothing visibly going on but in Nathan's head it ought to be chaos. She's flipping through his memories and picking out the worst ones, bringing them back to life in vivid colors and stunning sound-- and bombarding him with them all at once. The screams of children dying feature prominently above all the noise.

He might be angry, he might be in an animalistic rage, but Sirkka has taken all of her guilt and now she forces it onto him as well. Even without her own memories mixed in there it's stifling. Disbelief, fear, her anger at herself and for what she's done, it's all amplified.]

[That's low, Sirkka, that's low. But some of those memories don't need the screams of children dying added to them - one memory from his childhood is already that. You know, that one of being the only survivor when a drunk driver crashed into his class when he was in 2nd grade. There's the time the Revengencers attacked Mordhaus and slaughtered the (innocent) people there while trying to get to the band. There's when Murderface was hospitalized (that one he still feels guilty over, no doubt, Murderface may have been standing but it was HIS fault, HE was driving the murdercycle, HE was drunk, HE caused his friend to get hurt). There's not saving Ofdensen in time from the Metal Masked Assassin. There are a lot of things and all of them are horrible accidents, nut cases trying to murder him and the band, things which aren't entirely his fault but he takes full blame for and to extremes.

It should overwhelm him. It should. But all it does is fuel his anger. She's messing with him, she's in his head, she's looking at his life and knowing things about him that he wants to keep secret. Even with her guilt added, it almost becomes twisted around, turned into a weapon of accusation and loathing.

He roars again, trying to surge up to his feet to attack her, to get her to mind her own fucking business, that stupid fucking whore.]

[... This should not be happening. But because of myriad factors it IS, and that means that blood is going to spill tonight. She eases up on the guilt thing and instead sends him fear, the mind-numbing fear of people so scared out of their lives that they piss themselves. It doesn't matter what the source is because she's drawing purely on brain function now and the fight-or-flight node is so /fun/ to play with.

Another purple barrier forms, shimmering as Nathan hits it, but it holds. Sirkka's eyes flash again. This time, the gravity pool doesn't just tug at Nathan-- it /claws/, a million sharp nails tearing at his clothes and skin and face, trying not only to drag him down but cut him. There's still a sense that she's holding back, though. I mean, it's like invisible papercuts.]

You're only going to kill yourself at this rate.

[He's dragged back down by the weight and pressure; tiny rivulets of blood appear where he's cut. Nathan pants, still glaring up at her. Some part of him does feel that fear, the part of him that hasn't been completely overridden by a need for violence and pure unadulterated rage.

He wants to go home. He wants to kill her.

It fells like a damn headache and he growls again, trying to keep himself from being pushed straight down on the floor entirely. His vision greys a little, but he isn't deterred.

Yet he doesn't roar this time.]

Let.

Me.

Up.

I can open up your ribcage like a butterfly without even thinking about it. [It's true, too. Brute force is a lot easier than the fear/guilt/emotional shit she's been doing. The pressure remains constant, the fear not dying down.] Tell me you'll stop. Tell me you'll leave everyone here alone, and maybe I'll consider it.

Edited 2010-10-24 10:14 (UTC)

I can't.

[There's still that anger lurking there, but it's coiled tightly for now, and most of Nathan's attention has been diverted to keeping himself from being defeated entirely by gravity.]

I, I- it's like-

[He growls in frustration.]

I want to beat the shit out of you, and I don't...

[For a moment he seems utterly horrified by this, but it slips back into just being a seething mass of anger.]

[Her face twists into some form of pity at those words. He doesn't want to hurt her? Really? Some voice in the back of her head is screaming to make it stop, make it stop, just stop...!

Well.

She always was one of the smarter ones.]

Maybe this will help.

[She stares coldly down at Nathan as the gravity tightens, increasing the pressure just enough to make the blood rush to his head and maybe even make him pass out.]

[Nathan is immediately out like a light.

Unfortunately, it doesn't dispel that oppressive anger and violence. No, now it's just totally coming from a guy who is... laying there on the floor. Good job, Nathan.

Good job, Sirkka, too. At least now he doesn't have to deal with that crap, he's totally just going to enjoy unconsciousness until he wakes up.]

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