raw: (01001101)
elliot "tyler durden" alderson ([personal profile] raw) wrote in [community profile] maskormenacelogs 2016-11-26 12:14 pm (UTC)

Deep behind anything else he's thinking about at any given moment, Elliot has a near constant litany of shit shit shit shit murmuring quieter than the sound blood makes when it rushes past the ears. But she grabs him — suddenly strong — and it ratchets up rapidly to a whining shriek, zero to sixty, shit shit shit SHIT SHIT passing in an anxiety doppler effect before he can really hear her words.

He fires the gun: it's very easy to pull the trigger when he isn't trying to. It's loud, and the recoil ricochets through his whole body. The window on the other side of the room cracks quietly, racing spiderwebs barely a whisper in the shocking, smoking silence before the whole thing gives with a shattering crash. Glass falls several stories to the pavement below, glittering in reflected neon. No-one will even look up. Elliot's eyes are wide, his own pulse rabbit-fast, startled by his own action as much as anything else. Terrified, even. By both of them.

"Fuck," he exclaims, and drops the gun so he doesn't accidentally shoot it again. Probably this is a long way from the icy-bitter confrontation he imagined in his head. She's overpowered him in like, two seconds. But her words have an earnestness to them that he wants to close his eyes and cling to, something human that he can no longer see in her eyes.

Post a comment in response:

This account has disabled anonymous posting.
If you don't have an account you can create one now.
HTML doesn't work in the subject.
More info about formatting