mylegacy | ic inbox / drift fleet

You think it would damage my credibility if people thought I was sleeping with you? It would say some negative things about my judgment . . .

What? No! I wasn't talking about THAT, you asshole.

[He's offended, but not actually noticing just how offended he is since his attention is no longer on trying to figure out if he needs to be concerned about what's happening between them.]

Then what were you talking about?

I was talking about the part you told me about. [Definitely some grumblings about how stupid Caesar is.] People might have figured it out, but you still didn't TELL them. They shouldn't be talking about it.

Not that I'm gonna go blabbing about it even though you told me. It'll just stay between us. I promise.

[It's really, really frustrating to be angry with Joseph and grateful to him at the same time. It's an awful feeling. He wants to punch him. Or kiss him.]

I'm not worried about people talking about it, Jojo. Not here.

Really? You're not just trying to make a quick buck, are you?

Excuse me?

You know, everyone starts talking about you, your ratings go up, and then you get more money. Gotta make up for all those lunches you bought me, right? ( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ»

It's a nice bullshit scheme if that's what you're up to; letting people suspect the truth but never telling them. Hell, I almost wish I thought of it.

I'm going to punch you in the face.

Don't worry, I'm not gonna tell anyone what you're up to either! You know all your secrets are safe with me, Caesarino. ﾍ(=￣∇￣)ﾉ

Where are you?

So you can punch me? I don't think so.

Fine. I'll find you. But you're only making this worse for yourself.

[HE'S ON THE HUNT NOW THO.]

Hey c'mon Caesar! I'm being a good friend here!

Ma'va te ne a fanculo.

[Excuse him. He needs to go hide somewhere on his ship where Caesar will not suspect to find him because he's pretty sure he's about to die.]

[PRETTY SURE CAESAR IS GONNA STOMP THROUGH THE CAPRINE ANYWAY. Come out for your beatdown, Jojo.]

[You cannot make him. But really the engine room is the only place for his tall ass to hide since it's the only place with big enough equipment. :'(]

[Excuse him when he lets out the most undignified yelp when he's quickly found.]

Caesar! Um, what are you doing here? You know, I'm pretty sure the Tourist called and they were looking for you. You should head back and see what they want!

[Yeah, no, Joseph, sorry. He's not here to talk. He's here to punch you.]

[Which he does. In the stomach. Right now.]

Figlio di puttana!

[That knocks the wind straight out of Joseph immediately. He's doubled over, but okay. He is not going to just take this lying down. Joseph immediately shoulder tackles Caesar.]

[And Caesar goes down, of course, but happily, because this is easier - far easier than talking and trying to sort out whatever lie he's trying today, and having Joseph tell him things that inexplicably piss him off, and having to act like it doesn't bother him. It does. He's mad as hell, and he'd rather Joseph hit him than talk if this is what he's going to say.]

[He's up again in a moment, or at least half-up, leaning on Joseph to get as close to standing as he can before he stomps down hard on Joseph's instep.]

[Joseph knows he was being at least a little bit of a shit at the tail-end of their conversation. He's used to getting decked at least once, maybe twice when he's acting like that. It's nothing that's really bothered him and he certainly doesn't care of he gets bruises or starts bleeding. There's even something vaguely comforting and very familiar about it when Caesar starts using his fists to get Joseph to knock it off. But there's something about this that feels a little different. At least in comparison to those other fights. The last one on the other hand... It's not just irritation, but actual anger that he's receiving and he doesn't fully understand it.]

[But there's no time to ask where it's coming from or why it's being directed at Joseph. The only thing he can do is just try and ride it out, let Caesar wear himself out and then maybe talk about it. Maybe. Either way, he's not all that concerned about talking when Caesar is stomping down that hard on his foot. Joseph stifles another yelp, this time in pain, by gritting his teeth. He's already up enough on his feet himself to grab onto Caesar with a hand and retaliate with a knee.]

[The knee hits him in the gut, and he grunts, pulls back his teeth in a silent snarl of pain. Already, instinctively, he's looking the engine room over, and there are some tools just out of reach, he could - shouldn't reach for them, because he doesn't want to hurt Joseph, just teach him a lesson.]

[What's the lesson, he wonders, and all he can come up with is stop hurting me, but he can't even tell Joseph how. So he grabs Joseph by his arms, his elbows, jerks forward in a headbutt, because it's that or find something heavy, and he doesn't, he doesn't want to do that.]

[Joseph thought maybe that might be enough when he gets him in the gut. Or at least enough to give Caesar a moment to calm himself down without anything further. But then he's being grabbed and before he can stop the momentum, Joseph is sent stumbling backwards and seeing stars when Caesar hits him head with a headbutt.]

[He catches himself, his eyes squeezed shut for a moment as he shakes his head to try and shake off the fuzziness he feels now in his face. He's about 80% certain his nose is bleeding, but that's the least of his concerns as that earlier maturity of just letting Caesar lose the wind in his sails eventually and wind down is forgotten. The right combination of stronger pain than their usual scraps mixed in with his confusion as to why he's being punished like this is more than enough to strike at his own quick temper.]

You son of a bitch... [he growls.]

[Of course once Joseph's been set off, it overrides and colors most everything. Technique isn't forgotten, but it is transformed into something rougher, blunter. He's more like a bruiser just looking to pummel and lash out. It's exactly why he just comes back at Caesar simply swinging.]

[Caesar could almost scoff at Joseph's poor technique now; does, in fact, open his mouth to laugh, but nothing comes out except a quiet, hoarse, frustrated sob that he wishes he could swallow back around the lump in his throat - and then Joseph's there, fists flying, and it's all he can do to keep up, blocking most of the blows and hissing at the ones that connect to his jaw, his cheek, his chin.]

[He isn't afraid of getting hurt, not like this, just - afraid of Joseph thinking this is a joke, that he's a joke, that he wants to be doing this, much less for the ratings. Because he knows where the money came from now, all the money after the beach, and it makes him sick, and he wants to give it back and just keep the memories. Those are his.]

[There's a wrench just a foot away from him, hanging off a steel shelf. It'd be easy, so easy to reach for it, to just break Joseph's fingers and be done with this whole stupid thing. But he loves Joseph, damn him, damn both of them, and he wants to show him off and show him up and touch him and make sure that he never, ever knows - and he doesn't want to hurt him. Not like that.]

[He grabs Joseph by the front of his shirt, throws him back against the shelf, which rings with the sound of metal on metal. His chest is heaving, there's a darkening mark on his forehead and his cheek, but all he does is shake Joseph a little in impotent frustration, not sure whether to ask him to stop or to hit harder.]

Edited 2015-09-13 08:49 (UTC)

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