“I have no reason to be in a bad mood. Not anymore.” Not when he had such marvelous plans for revenge, and a good reason to test out the experimental composition-4 explosive shipped in nearly two months ago. “I found a reason for exaltation.”
The Fury let go of the lieutenant, righting the table that had faced his wrath. It wobbled, unsteady with bent legs and loose screws. Obviously, the poor thing was accustomed to rough treatment, as evident by the scorch marks.
“The last I saw of the scarf I stole from you at mess a few mornings ago, it was on the desk in the corner.” The cosmonaut gestured -- a crimson mantle drowning in a sea of blueprints. If inanimate objects were capable of human gestures, the scarf was struggling to stay afloat and gasping for air.
“But you did not come here to fetch it,” the Fury concluded. “You are an Ocelot; your specialty is stealth. If you wanted to, you could have picked the lock on the door and stole it back in the darkness of night, when I was away…”
He glanced at the folding chair that had been victim to the brunt of his rage, twisted into a mangled knot of bent metal, and the hole it had knocked in the plaster wall. “You came here because I invited you.”
Pointedly, he glared at Isaev through the thick hazy glass of his helmet. “Why? Not because it is socially expected to accept an invitation. No, I want to know why…why do you trust me? Even when your commander flinches away?”
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2006-11-05 06:19 am (UTC)The Fury let go of the lieutenant, righting the table that had faced his wrath. It wobbled, unsteady with bent legs and loose screws. Obviously, the poor thing was accustomed to rough treatment, as evident by the scorch marks.
“The last I saw of the scarf I stole from you at mess a few mornings ago, it was on the desk in the corner.” The cosmonaut gestured -- a crimson mantle drowning in a sea of blueprints. If inanimate objects were capable of human gestures, the scarf was struggling to stay afloat and gasping for air.
“But you did not come here to fetch it,” the Fury concluded. “You are an Ocelot; your specialty is stealth. If you wanted to, you could have picked the lock on the door and stole it back in the darkness of night, when I was away…”
He glanced at the folding chair that had been victim to the brunt of his rage, twisted into a mangled knot of bent metal, and the hole it had knocked in the plaster wall. “You came here because I invited you.”
Pointedly, he glared at Isaev through the thick hazy glass of his helmet. “Why? Not because it is socially expected to accept an invitation. No, I want to know why…why do you trust me? Even when your commander flinches away?”