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singularityderp2010-12-07 08:34 pm
dismembers.livejournal.com) wrote in singularityderp2010-12-07 08:34 pm
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HORRIBLE MEMES ALL DAY ERRYDAY
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(Anonymous) 2010-12-24 09:48 pm (UTC)(link)Obligatory "would you kindly"
1/? No anon because everyone knows I'm writing this.
The floor rocked and somewhere, deep beneath the concrete, Jack could make out the feeling of the bedrock crumbling. Fire poured out behind him and there was a sick sort of churning beneath his feet as water separated the foundation of the docks from the seafloor. The floor was rising, or falling, it was impossible to tell and he needed to get the hell out of here. He wheeled around and his wrench caught a splicer across the jaw, the Nitro dropped as his neck twisted round and his gas-mask went flying.
Jack made it around the corner before the oil on the ground caught fire. The corpse, and the grenade box at its side, exploded with a sickening series of wet cracks and concussive booms. It was getting hard to hear, too much was going on at once. The sound of metal above him, sharp and bright, meant he had Spiders after him. The whole room craned to the right and water splashed up, over the causeway. He didn't stop running to check, but the heavy metal crash and the female shriek probably meant that the submarine (or what was left of it) had taken care of the Spiders for him.
"Atlas!?" Jack called into the radio. He wasn't sure if the static he got back was actually coming out of the radio or if he was hearing things. His arm was still fuzzy, jumping with stray electricity, and his head was ringing. He was out of EVE and he had no idea which way to go.
"In here, Boy'o!" It was strange, hearing that voice in real space, not through a radio.
Before Jack could register how surreal it was, there was a firm hand on his upper arm and he was being yanked through a threshold. The steel door slammed shut hard at his heels and the metal floor creaked violently as the hall twisted. The pounding in the back of his skull might have been water hitting the door and bulkhead, he wasn't sure. Jack was working pretty hard to make sure he kept up with the slender Irish man leading him by the arm, and everything else was really a secondary consideration.
"Atlas?" Jack managed as they beat feet toward the seals on Neptune's Bounty proper. "You're alive?"
"Not for long, you don't pick up the pace," Atlas answered in his familiar Irish brogue. His hand shifted and he was pulling Jack by the wrist. Atlas was fast, was that how he got away from the Splicers? "Would you kindly hurry up?"
Jack nodded and picked up the pace. The floor was curling beneath them and the bulkhead was groaning. That was a lot of water. They made it in to the airlock and the door slammed just as the sound of buckling metal filled the hallway behind them. Atlas let him go as he tightened the door lock and the force of the water hitting the wall managed to knock both of them back and onto the floor.
The sole light in the room flickered and Jack looked at Atlas. Atlas was busy staring at the door. After a few moments, the sound of rushing water faded away and silence permeated the tiny room. Another minute crept by and slowly Atlas's eyes started searching the door. Abruptly, Atlas let out a deep, rich laugh and curled forward to slap at his boots. He was still half lying across Jack, but his relief was enough to put a smile on Jack's face.
"We made it, Boy'o, we made it!" Atlas shouted and clapped Jack on the shoulder. His grip tightened and he shook Jack a little before smashing an enthusiastic, half crazed kiss across his lips. Jack froze, more out of general confusion than anything more sophisticated, but Atlas hardly noticed. They parted with a wet smack and Atlas patted him on the cheek as a wide grin split his face.
"What...what about your family?" Jack asked...mostly because it seemed like the prudent thing to ask. Atlas stared at him and a flicker of confusion darted across his face before it crumpled into something resembling sorrow. Jack didn't know how to decipher the expression properly, so his knee-jerk reaction was only partially accurate.
2/3 Dammit LJ.
"Alright, 'nough, there friend," Atlas announced sharply (or as sharply as he could manage through the rib-cracking grip Jack had on him.) "Now, would you kindly let me go?"
Jack released the grieving man immediately, he didn't want to be a bother, and he had no idea how to deal with this. Atlas turned a flat and irritated gaze on Jack. There was a thread of something darker in there, some ironic rage that Jack didn't recognize, but it vanished quickly as Atlas turned and straddled Jack's legs. When he didn't stand, Jack shot him a confused look.
"I'm beginning ta' think yer more trouble than this is worth, m'boy," Atlas all but snapped and Jack flinched a little.
"Atlas, I--" Jack paused mid-sentence. What do you say when it's your fault someone's family is dead? When you're the one who inadvertently goaded Andrew Ryan into unleashing the crazies on them all?
"Would you kindly shut yer trap?" Atlas cut him off and Jack was startled into silence. His Irish brogue faltered there, briefly, but Jack barely noticed. "I finally start to really like this acquaintanceship of ours an' you go and fill it right up with all manner of 'orrible."
Jack couldn't come up with a response. It stung, but it was true. He'd done very little to help, and a lot to ruin Atlas's plan, at the cost of his family. His silence drew a slow smile out of the man perched atop him and, as confusing as it was, Jack didn't even think to comment. Atlas's hand patted him idly across the cheek and his smile broke apart into an equally incongruous dark grin.
"Atta'boy," Atlas congratulated and Jack moved to speak. No sooner had he drawn the breath before Atlas's hand drew back and struck him across the face. It was shocking enough that Jack just blinked. "Now, now, non'a that."
Jack barely has the presence of mind to nod--had he hit him? Was he angry?--and Atlas leaned forward, pressing himself down against Jack in a manner that was both unusual and sent a twinge of worry up Jack's spine. He felt like he should know, should understand the hardness in Atlas's pants, but he didn't and he wasn't sure what was supposed to happen next.
"Ya are good at followin orders, aren't you?" Atlas asked and Jack nodded. "All efficiency an' exactness. Even if yer timing is a wee bit askew." Atlas was musing more to himself that Jack, even if those dark eyes were locked on him, and Jack just nodded mutely. "At's a good boy. Now, yer hand?"
Jack's attention strayed from Atlas's face and he caught sight of the man's hand extended and waiting at his side. Jack was confused. What did he want?
"Now, now, that furrowed brow ain't helping nothing along that ought ta be helped," Atlas scolded. "Now, would you kindly give me that hand." Jack did so without protest and there was a strange disconnect for a moment because he couldn't figure out why he'd done it.
"Good," Atlas praised and Jack strained to see what he was doing but his head was quickly pushed back onto the ground. He found out soon enough as Atlas pressed his open hand against the front of his pants and the hardness of his erection. Jack froze and Atlas grinned charmingly at him.
3/3
He didn't sound fragile, but Jack was gentle anyway. He wanted to pull away but...maybe this was part of grieving? His arm didn't want to listen to him, and Atlas hissed slowly as Jack did as he was asked. The Irishman pressed a hard kiss against him, completely unlike the first, and Jack just stared at his too-close face as he pressed his hips in and drew back, bucked against the pressure of his hand. Eventually Atlas pulled back for air, when he did, his face was still too close.
"Good, boy-o," Atlas congratulated. "Was that so hard? Now, would you kindly say my name?" Jack did and Atlas shuddered. Jack didn't understand what happened, didn't want to think on it too hard, but when Atlas stood up and went for the door without another word, he got the distinct feeling that he wasn't really dealing with a good guy.
Re: 3/3
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so guilty