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[S] MAKE HIM PAY (CLOSED)

WHO: Kayneth (

croibhristeoir)
WHAT: Given that emotions and tensions are running high, it's time to have a showdown!
WHEN: Sunday evening
WHERE: Somewhere reasonably deserted
RATING: ...man, I don't know, there will be a serious beatdown I guess

There were quite a few people in Prospero who Kayneth had come to loathe since his arrival. It wouldn't be inaccurate to say that he'd been looking forward to exacting revenge on several people since the very day he'd arrived.

The problem, of course, was that Kayneth was very much a mage who had relied on magic for everything combat-related for his entire life, and the magic here... well. Its strength was based on how long you'd been fighting Shadows here, and practically everyone who he took issue with had been here far longer than he had and, more often than not, had more combat skills than just magic.

He had wanted to do things the honorable way. To wait until he was on par with the people who he wanted to repay with interest and could challenge them with any hope of winning. Very recently, though, his patience had worn thin, until it had finally broken.

So, to hell with all that. He was going to take care of things now, honor be damned. He had bought himself a revolver despite his previous apprehensions about using conventional weaponry of any kind that wasn't at least somewhat appropriate for a magus, and was now tracking down the man who he had Harlan Ellison levels of hate for at the moment.

...really, there would be no points awarded for guessing who that was. Given that Kayneth was nowhere near self aware enough to suspect that his problems might lay in the fact that he was a selfish dickhole, he had pinned the majority of the blame on one man: Lancer.

...honestly, this was the worst idea, but was anyone on Prospero thinking straight at the moment?

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Diarmuid was in no spectacular mood either. In fact, the more time went on the more irritated he was. And the more irritated he was, the harder it was to keep his anger in check.

Injured though he was, his best coping mechanism was to simply stand outside in full armor and with Gae Dearg in one hand, waiting for the Dark Hour. Fighting cleared his mind easily, as it always had. So what else could he really do?

And there he was-honestly, it was really difficult to miss the man. Of course, as luck would have it, the angle he would have to approach from went straight into Lancer's line of vision.

...he could always double around from another angle, of course, but really, right now, patience and caution were not his strong point. So, he could always just walk past Lancer and act like he was doing that thing where they just viciously ignored each other, and once he was out of Lancer's line of vision, he could... shoot him... in the back of the knee or something like that.

Obviously, this plan could not fail in any way, so that was exactly what he did.

Oh for the love of jumping jesus christ on a cracker what was he up to.

"What do you want?" he snapped the moment they were in range of each other.

...well that was a bust.

"Does it deeply offend you to simply see me passing by on the street? How incredibly petty of you."

"When I can tell by that imbecilic look on your face that you are planning nothing good? Yes. Yes, it bothers me a great deal."

"Well done, you've uncovered my nefarious plot to buy some pastries. Now, if you'll excuse me..."

"What a shock, I don't believe you."

"Well, of course you wouldn't."

"You have given me no adequate reason why I should. What are you really doing?"

"I just told you, didn't I? It's no fault of mine that you don't believe a word I say."

By this point, it was tempting to just shoot him in the face and be done with it.

"If one was to be technical, yes. It is your fault I don't believe a word that comes out of your arrogant mouth."

"Whatever you say," said Kayneth, finally just passing him by. "I'll presently be excusing myself, as I'm sure you have important things to be doing. Like stealing somebody's wife, perhaps."

"..."

Diarmuid almost, almost let him pass, until that last sentence sunk in. His hand flashed out to grab the back of Kayneth's collar with a speed not quite normal, the sudden scowl on his face a stark contrast to his usual calm demeanor.

"What did you say?" he snarled in a voice not quite like himself at all. It was a chance for Kayneth to take back those words--the only chance he would get. Even on impulse, Diarmuid was willing to grant him that much.

Edited 2012-04-30 14:36 (UTC)

He could have taken it back, but Kayneth didn't know when to give up even when he was completely in control of his impulses. This was not a situation he was going to back down from.

Especially not on this count.

"You heard me, didn't you?" he hissed, quickly turning to attempt to punch Lancer in his goddamn pretty-boy face. Punching was the opposite of Kayneth's strong suit, but he really didn't care at this point.

WHACK.

Oh, that...didn't hurt at all, actually. Wow, Kayneth really couldn't fight for shit without his magic.

"...I really do not think you want me to invoke the concept of 'an eye for an eye' here."

The thing about fistfighting was that it always seemed much, much easier than it actually was. For example, one could easily be lead to believe that punching someone in the face would lead to the target being injured and not them.

This was not always the case, as Kayneth was currently finding out due to the fact that some of his fingers were broken.

"Goddamnit!"

"That sounded like it hurt."

Kayneth would have responded with something smarmy, but at the moment he was just biting his lip and trying not to make it too obvious as to how much it hurt. What he wouldn't give for some sort of healing spell...

A smile spread across Diarmuid's face at that--more of a devious smirk, really.

"Hm, if you are going to be openly hostile, I think it is only fair that I outline why it is a very bad idea to do so."

In a flash of motion Diarmuid pulled one hand back and delivered a fist directly into Kayneth's face with a hell of a lot more power than the scrawny little magus could manage.

It's on.

Edited 2012-04-30 17:25 (UTC)

Really, he should have expected that, even if he'd been somewhat distracted. He probably would have been completely floored either way, though, given that his only prior experience with this kind of thing had been... getting beaten on twice.

Well, at least he had some practice with hitting the pavement by now!

"I hope we're quite clear now, Kayneth. Please don't do something so idiotic again."

Why the hell couldn't he win?

Ever since he'd arrived here, Kayneth's life had been nothing but a plague of misfortune. Practically all of it had been Lancer's fault, at least in his mind, but he also was struck with the inability to do anything about it. He couldn't defend himself, he couldn't defend his own honor, he couldn't do anything about Sola's injuries, he couldn't prevent her from getting injured in the first place...

He hated it. He hated feeling so useless. He hated not being the best at everything. He hated Lancer he hated his goddamned face he hated this pain that accompanied picking himself up as he positively shook with rage-

...of course, he wasn't done yet. He could still succeed here. He just had to wait for Lancer's attention to be diverted...

"Is that all?" Lancer asked, crossing his arms. Really, didn't he just know when to quit?

Then again, Diarmuid's experience said he very clearly didn't.

Really, if Kayneth Archibald El-Melloi ever learned when to quit, it would likely be as a result of a confrontation with the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.

"Of course not," said Kayneth, finally pulling the revolver on Lancer.

"..."

He looked from the revolver to Kayneth and back again, expression flat and just screaming 'are you kidding me'.

"Really?" Disbelief was clear in his voice, as if he could not quite work out that this was happening. Kayneth couldn't be this monumentally stupid, could he? No, of course he could. That had been the entire problem from day one.

In the time it would have taken his former Master to pull the trigger, Diarmuid already had a grip on his wrist and diverted his aim until the firearm was no longer pointing at him. Well, if he was going to be this persistent, the knight of the Fianna would just have to disarm him while illustrating why challenging him was a very bad idea.

Starting by tightening his grip on Kayneth's wrist until he heard a crack.

Perhaps this had not been the best thought out plan. He pulled the trigger just as his aim was diverted, sending the bullet off into nowhere. And then, of course, his wrist snapped.

Mages had to be used to pain, given that casting a powerful enough spell could leave you in complete agony. However, there was a difference between willingly inflicting pain on yourself and having your wrist snapped. He didn't cry out, although a pained noise managed to escape his gritted teeth.

"...I really almost feel guilty about doing this." Diarmuid admitted. Even if he did have a weapon, next to someone of his skill and power Kayneth was practically defenseless.

But he was still the one who attacked first. Best to eliminate the threat as efficiently as possible--hm, no, maybe he wouldn't eliminate him. Breaking a few things was enough. With that Diarmuid wrapped his other hand around Kayneth's arm as well.

"Almost."

With a disturbingly calm look, the former Servant tightened his grip on Kayneth's arm and threw the lightweight in the direction of the nearest wall.

"Are we done here? I strongly suggest you not humiliate yourself further."

There was really nothing Kayneth could do about this. He hit the wall hard and broke... at least a shoulderblade, though really with all the pain it was hard to tell what was reasonably intact and what wasn't.

He couldn't move. It was difficult to do anything except slump to the ground, and it was difficult to push himself up given the angle he'd landed at.

Was there really nothing he could do? He couldn't just let this go. He couldn't...

...well, all he could do was just glare and seethe, really.

"As I thought." A sigh. "Now really, stop this foolishness. You will only make yourself look worse."

Diarmuid extended a hand in silent offer to help him stand--it was probably too kind of him, but he did it anyway.

What the hell was he trying to pull? If Lancer wanted to finish him off, he'd just do it like this. Was he just trying to humiliate him?

"I don't... need your help."

"A basic sense of logic says otherwise."

"I don't care."

"You tried to kill me and I'm still willing to help you. You should be grateful for once in your life."

Diarmuid shrugged, turning his back on Kayneth with a surprisingly cold remark of:

"I'm sure Waver would have been."

"Goddamn you!"

Kayneth had tried to keep up some semblance of composure for most of this... thing, but with that he'd finally reached his breaking point.

"I don't really give a damn whether I killed you or not, you bastard!"

"Oh, I think gods are much more likely than humans to actually be on my side, looking at my track record. Of course, that depends on which one we're referring to. Father, for instance, would surely take my side over yours."

Look at all these fucks he just does not give.

"You know, I've had a great deal of time to think since I came here. And the fact that you killed me...hm, it really doesn't bother me so much anymore. It was as much Kiritsugu's fault as it was yours, so blaming one of you over the other would be unfair. After a great deal of thought I have come to the realization this now has little to do with who killed me."

That was when Diarmuid dropped the casual tone, looking and sounding like he was going to kill Kayneth right at that moment.

"You treated me like your puppet. Worse still, you called me a womanizer, you worthless and pathetic excuse for an insect. That is what I can not stand. That is something you and only you are responsible for. And that is why I hate you."

...really, he should have asked who this Kiritsugu person was and saved himself a lot of grief. He was probably going to look back at this conversation and think, Perhaps I should have picked up on that unfamiliar name and asked for details.

Right now, though, he was too angry about everything.

"I'm sure I won't regret that, either."

"You--!"

Forget composure. He was pissed right off and there was a punch going right for Kayneth's face.

"Do you care about anything but yourself?!"

...well, Kayneth couldn't exactly dodge that, could he. He was honestly quite a mess at this point, and getting punched in the face really hard hadn't helped. This finally managed to knock him unconscious, as getting punched in the face against a wall tended to do that. ...really, it was kind of surprising that he'd stayed conscious this long...

Edited (HTML TAGS...) 2012-05-12 19:00 (UTC)

"..."

Lancer wanted to punch Kayneth again, kick him until he started hearing something break, and just flat-out hurt him for all that he'd withstood in the Holy Grail War as well as here. It would have been so easy to just snap his neck--no, no. He had to control himself, otherwise he would be as violent and rage-filled as his Shadow.

Deep breaths. It wouldn't be honorable to kill him at all, never mind like this. But Diarmuid just hated him so much and was so angry...he couldn't stand it.

Maybe it was wrong. Maybe he'd regret it later.

But right now, he punctuated the argument with a kick to his former Master's midsection that would damn well hurt later, before turning and walking away. Not his problem. Not anymore.

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[S] MAKE HIM PAY (CLOSED)

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