realityshifted | (no subject)

[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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[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.]