Post by Keith Richards on Mar 17, 2008 0:37:32 GMT 1
Keith was annoyed. He hadn't even intended to go to the library, he was passing it, but that didn't seem to matter to the two douche bags that decided they would waste his time. Wearing his usual attire of a gray hoodie over a white wife beater, carpenter jeans, and work boots. And his his physique he didn't look as intimidating as the reputation that was building around him.He was not accredited to a real reputation yet, it was something that would come on it's own, not something he actively worked at.
"We found you, finally!"
"I wear the same basic outfit and hair style every day."
"It's a big school."
"If that's your best excuse for being an idiot why don't you just get to the point?"
...
"What, forget the point?"
"No god damn it! I want to know where my girlfriend has been! Even her parents don't know! Where is she god damn it!"
Keith split a wide grin as he looked the guy over. Angry temperament, looking like someone broke facial bones and his noise, scars on the forehead where the stitches couldn't make them invisible. But the girlfriend, that's what clinched it. Yeah, he remembered the guy, and knew where the girl was. She just had decided to take a different role in life after meeting him. Quite different, since she was a blushing virgin in the first place. How she ended up becoming a druggie though, that was lost on him.
"Even if you knew where she was it wouldn't do you any good."
He rolled his shoulders and moved to take a step around. There wasn't much fun in breaking the same person twice and he had already left this one with memories. Although the body language wasn't show that. The fear he had implanted was clashing with the angry attitude the guy had. 'So uptight.' As long, purposeful, strides brought him forward he was eying the increasingly tense male. He knew it had to be just a matter of time until something set him or his buddy off.
Movement showed in his peripheral vision when he was shoulder to shoulder with the tensed and angry, now ex, boyfriend. A wide swing was coming at him, but he could only see the shoulder. Instead of taking the chance of getting it if he dodged in the predictable directions, away from him, Keith threw his already aimed shoulder at him. Both of them tumbled off their feet, but Keith had a cushion. The ex-boyfriend however wasn't so lucky and cracked his head on the outside wall of the library.
From the flat of his back he could see the friend above, his foot raised, and coming down hard. Keith rolled away from the downed ex-boyfriend, hearing bones crack in his knee. The friend wasn't so friendly, Keith, while performing a second roll away, was guessing that the guy was paid because he wasn't stopping after doing that much damage. 'That's why you don't pay muscle before hand, fuck head.' He grunted loudly as a front kick spit gravel at his face, but somehow managed to stand up as he blinked rapidly.
Keith had no intention of letting that shit go, of course, but he almost wanted to just pay the asshole off and be done with it. Of course that was only because he couldn't see anything but a blurred outline as he quickly back stepped away from the muscle. A kick, he could feel it going horizontally across his stomach, sent him hurtling through the air. While backpedaling he was already headed back wards and didn't have enough balance to take the hit gracefully.
He could feel gravel dig into the back of his shoulders as they took the brunt of the fall. Quickly tucking his left shoulder toward his body and his chin dug into his collar bone, producing a backward roll that managed to get him to shaky feet. Rasped coughs escaped him as he settled his balance, the muscle looking on like he had already won. "You weren't paid enough to fight me." Keith rasped out, the back of his wrist rubbing furiously to get the unwanted tears out of his eyes.
By the time the muscle was charging again Keith could see out of his left eye. He wasn't going to get a chance to get his right working right yet. Keith stepped forward with the other, his eyes aimed down to the hip. That's when he saw a leg raising, looked like the guy was married to kicks after all. But that was just a weakness. Keith raised his forward leg and planted it on muscle's knee and pushed. It fell under him. Keith torqued his body to the left and cracked a harsh elbow in the side of his head.
Muscle fell to the left and proceeded to take repeated kicks to the face. After half a dozen the body was no longer moving to block with the arms and all movement but breathing had simply ceased. Keith stepped back, breathing heavily as anger washed out with each breath. Torture them, say they've had enough, find out who they care about? Keith decided on the third choice. Crouching down he spit on muscles head and searched through his pockets. "Hah, wallet. Don't bring anything into a fight your not willing to lose."
Keith did the same to the student bleeding from the head against the library wall. Both of their names, and around sixty bucks, were his to claim. He pocketed the money but just threw the emptied wallets onto the ground in front of their respective owners as they bled, but their drivers license were in his hand. "Well then, Walter Kithmoore. Walter? The fuck are you, eighty? And Richard Kithmoore? Huh, well I guess your brother doesn't like you all that much."
He then noticed something pretty funny. The two blonds on the ground, before he bashed their faces, had been nearly identical twins. "At least your faces will watch again." Keith reached into his jean pocket and pulled out a lighter, holding it in his right hand. His left pulled one side of his hoodie outward as his right delved into an inner pocket and pulled out a metal flask. "Wonder if you two would like matching birthmarks to go along with the facial reconstruction."
"We found you, finally!"
"I wear the same basic outfit and hair style every day."
"It's a big school."
"If that's your best excuse for being an idiot why don't you just get to the point?"
...
"What, forget the point?"
"No god damn it! I want to know where my girlfriend has been! Even her parents don't know! Where is she god damn it!"
Keith split a wide grin as he looked the guy over. Angry temperament, looking like someone broke facial bones and his noise, scars on the forehead where the stitches couldn't make them invisible. But the girlfriend, that's what clinched it. Yeah, he remembered the guy, and knew where the girl was. She just had decided to take a different role in life after meeting him. Quite different, since she was a blushing virgin in the first place. How she ended up becoming a druggie though, that was lost on him.
"Even if you knew where she was it wouldn't do you any good."
He rolled his shoulders and moved to take a step around. There wasn't much fun in breaking the same person twice and he had already left this one with memories. Although the body language wasn't show that. The fear he had implanted was clashing with the angry attitude the guy had. 'So uptight.' As long, purposeful, strides brought him forward he was eying the increasingly tense male. He knew it had to be just a matter of time until something set him or his buddy off.
Movement showed in his peripheral vision when he was shoulder to shoulder with the tensed and angry, now ex, boyfriend. A wide swing was coming at him, but he could only see the shoulder. Instead of taking the chance of getting it if he dodged in the predictable directions, away from him, Keith threw his already aimed shoulder at him. Both of them tumbled off their feet, but Keith had a cushion. The ex-boyfriend however wasn't so lucky and cracked his head on the outside wall of the library.
From the flat of his back he could see the friend above, his foot raised, and coming down hard. Keith rolled away from the downed ex-boyfriend, hearing bones crack in his knee. The friend wasn't so friendly, Keith, while performing a second roll away, was guessing that the guy was paid because he wasn't stopping after doing that much damage. 'That's why you don't pay muscle before hand, fuck head.' He grunted loudly as a front kick spit gravel at his face, but somehow managed to stand up as he blinked rapidly.
Keith had no intention of letting that shit go, of course, but he almost wanted to just pay the asshole off and be done with it. Of course that was only because he couldn't see anything but a blurred outline as he quickly back stepped away from the muscle. A kick, he could feel it going horizontally across his stomach, sent him hurtling through the air. While backpedaling he was already headed back wards and didn't have enough balance to take the hit gracefully.
He could feel gravel dig into the back of his shoulders as they took the brunt of the fall. Quickly tucking his left shoulder toward his body and his chin dug into his collar bone, producing a backward roll that managed to get him to shaky feet. Rasped coughs escaped him as he settled his balance, the muscle looking on like he had already won. "You weren't paid enough to fight me." Keith rasped out, the back of his wrist rubbing furiously to get the unwanted tears out of his eyes.
By the time the muscle was charging again Keith could see out of his left eye. He wasn't going to get a chance to get his right working right yet. Keith stepped forward with the other, his eyes aimed down to the hip. That's when he saw a leg raising, looked like the guy was married to kicks after all. But that was just a weakness. Keith raised his forward leg and planted it on muscle's knee and pushed. It fell under him. Keith torqued his body to the left and cracked a harsh elbow in the side of his head.
Muscle fell to the left and proceeded to take repeated kicks to the face. After half a dozen the body was no longer moving to block with the arms and all movement but breathing had simply ceased. Keith stepped back, breathing heavily as anger washed out with each breath. Torture them, say they've had enough, find out who they care about? Keith decided on the third choice. Crouching down he spit on muscles head and searched through his pockets. "Hah, wallet. Don't bring anything into a fight your not willing to lose."
Keith did the same to the student bleeding from the head against the library wall. Both of their names, and around sixty bucks, were his to claim. He pocketed the money but just threw the emptied wallets onto the ground in front of their respective owners as they bled, but their drivers license were in his hand. "Well then, Walter Kithmoore. Walter? The fuck are you, eighty? And Richard Kithmoore? Huh, well I guess your brother doesn't like you all that much."
He then noticed something pretty funny. The two blonds on the ground, before he bashed their faces, had been nearly identical twins. "At least your faces will watch again." Keith reached into his jean pocket and pulled out a lighter, holding it in his right hand. His left pulled one side of his hoodie outward as his right delved into an inner pocket and pulled out a metal flask. "Wonder if you two would like matching birthmarks to go along with the facial reconstruction."