Event Log: Why Do You Have To Be Mad?

[hadrielmods]

Who: Everyone participating in the event!
What: The event log for the Rage event!
Where: All around the city
When: December 15th-December 20th
Warnings: None! Well, potentially rage-induced destruction and fighting and maybe a tiny bit of murder? So, nothing out of the ordinary.

December is usually a time of festive holiday cheer... unfortunately, Hadriel isn't the sort of place that respects holidays. Rage has decided that it's time she's given her due and has put on another event! Unfortunately for everyone in the city, this event means that all characters are given a particularly aggravating pet peeve that entirely sets them into a flying rage.

See someone sleeping? They're now the object of your ire. See a tall building with a bunch of windows? Suddenly, all those windows need to be smashed. Fights are breaking out with depressing regularity, and a couple of them might be severe enough to injure someone in a bad way.

Look out for your fellow prisoners in Hadriel, and do try to figure out the categorizations of each person's issue fast- falling into these cycles of anger isn't good for anyone and is bound to make someone mad if you treat them wrong. Conversely, instead you can just find someone who has the same loathing as you and let your feelings amplify one another; after all, the best sort of friendship is one that's formed by mutual hatred!

► This log covers December 15th-December 20th.
► Feel free to make your own logs as well
► Please tag headers of threads with content warnings where they apply
► Please put your character's name and open/closed in the subject line of your starters!
► If you get too caught up in your feelings and start a fight only to see that the person who pissed you off was really good at fighting, or if someone blew up the building you were kinda living in, please let us know here!
► As a final note, if you were not sorted and you would like to be, then please let us know in response to this post!

Comments

[murderpotato]

Most days, Gren would say that his luck sits somewhere around 'breaking a mirror' levels-- that is to say, objectively terrible-- but he apparently gets a single stroke of good fortune when this asshat's glowsticks decide to crap out on him at the critical moment. And just in the nick of time, too; much longer and he would've been within striking range. No monster-kabobs for you, asshole. Serves him right for depending on his fancy slapchops instead of proper goddamn fisticuffs. Fight a monster like a man, with your bare fists.

Gren gets his arm around Wade's waist-- and it's a very tight waist, there's a pretty impressive amount of muscle and abs going on in that vicinity. A respectable six- or eight-pack, probably. And it's not that shitty bodybuilder-type muscle that's all show, it's the strong, functional kind of muscle that you get from actually having to do hard work. It's also not the point, because the point right now is that Gren's got an arm around him and lifts and bends back to suplex this motherfucker like they're in the middle of a televised cage fight. Dramatic, yes, but he feels like he's got some ground to make up for after the disparity in weapons. Gren might not have glowy swords, but he'll drop your bitch ass right on your head.

Shame, though, that he's got such a damn nice body for such an asshole.

Gren detangles himself from the grapple quickly post-suplex, rolling back to his feet to continue a fight that's one folding chair away from a WWE match.

"Tell me that ain't all you got."

[ishotyouuu]

It was fortunate that Wade had the presence of mind to tuck his chin into his chest at the last second; to loosen his body enough to roll into the suplex, or else he probably would have broken his neck. Not that a broken neck would have slowed him down all that much, but it would've definitely put a damper on this convenience store rumble going on right now.

Gren gets to his feet and Wade remains there, stunned, struggling to get his breath back. It's not the force of the suplex that's knocked the wind out of him-- not only the suplex, anyway-- but he's in the throes of some pretty vivid flashbacks right now. He's been thrown onto his back like this before, by someone with a similar hairstyle and a similar attitude and a similar (terrible) taste in fashion. It's only the face that's different, and Wade is troubled by the fact that he can't seem to remember Travis's face that well at all.

He casts his mind back further, searching, momentarily forgetting that he's currently in the midst of a knockdown, drag-out fight with a guy who might have more than a couple of screws loose. Focusing on fading memories seems way more important right now.

[murderpotato]

Gren's back on his feet and this asshole is... not really moving, actually, for a second there Gren's not quite sure if he's still alive. Did he kill him? Break his neck or some shit? But, no, he's breathing, so that means he must have survived. Gren chalks it up to being winded, because he did just slam that motherfucker down on his head.

Well, this ain't a fucking fair fight, so Gren's not going to wait like a gentleman for Wade to get his ass back up or anything. The guy's not dead yet and Sweater Grandpa said that he has a healing factor, so he should be able to take more of a beating than this. He's just not going to, like, beat him to death or anything, just kinda close to it. (Or, as close to it as Wade can get; technically, if you don't stay dead or injured, it kind of puts a crimp in your merciless beating.)

Wade Wilson's ribs, meet Gren's foot.

[ishotyouuu]

Someone apparently doesn't know the protocol for letting someone engage in a flashback. That'd earn Gren a yellow card at the very least. Fortunately, though Wade's brain hasn't really clued into the danger about to be visited upon his ribcage, his instincts certainly do, and he's had about three decades to hone said instincts to razor sharpness.

Gren's foot, meet Wade's hands.

The mercenary instinctively curls in on himself, softening the blow with his hands and gripping Gren's foot in a vice-like grip. At the same time one of his knees jerks up, catching the other man behind his knee and causing it to buckle. His other hand darts out, preparing to grab the man's arm as it inevitably shoots forward to protect himself from falling, at which point Wade will send Gren ass over teakettle with one well-timed yank off balance.

He may be a resourceful motherfucker, but even a dude as strong as he is has to obey the laws of gravity.

[murderpotato]

Things that Gren did not expect: for this motherfucker to have good enough reflexes to recover quickly enough to grab his fucking foot. He knows that this is a real bad position to be in and tries to get out of Wade's grip, but not quickly enough-- he takes a blow to the knee and he's falling and everything happens too fast for him to react to. Wade's hand gets around his wrist, large and firm, and he's tugged over into a very ungraceful tumble off of him. He's a gangly-ass motherfucker, there's nine miles of leg all over the place.

He sort of comes to a stop and has to sort out where all three of his limbs are, off-balance from his tumble. He's not hurt, though, or at least he doesn't think he is-- sometimes it's hard to tell when he's had enough to drink-- and starts to stagger back to his feet.

"Fuck you, motherfucker," he says, because that's a perfectly reasonable thing to say.

[ishotyouuu]

Unfortunately, Gren's curse is spoken to empty air, because Wade's decided to take this opportunity to grab his defunct beam katanas and bodyslide his ass to another area of the store, out of Gren's reach and sight. A more sensible and rational person would probably just teleport somewhere outside the store, maybe to another street or even to his house where Gren could never catch up to him. But Wade is not rational, and Wade is not sensible, and Wade would much rather engage in some much-needed stress relief by pounding this dude into the pavement.

He ends up somewhere among the cold medicine and the toothpaste and the feminine products, landing in a crouch with the hilts of his beam katanas still clenched in his hands. He knows what it'll take to bring his weapons back to their full potential-- that's the problem. Whoever constructed these things to recharge in such a ridiculous fashion was either a huge pervert or the biggest troll ever, and Wade can't figure out which would be more annoying.

Casting his eyes upwards with an irritated, long suffering sigh, he quickly goes to work.

[murderpotato]

And now the asshole's gone. Gren curses again, this time with more feeling behind it, because things were actually starting to get interesting and the motherfucker had to skip out. Now what's he supposed to do with his fight-boner pent-up aggression?

He was going to leave, but stops-- he can hear something. Multiple somethings, actually. There's a heartbeat, probably this asshole's, and breathing to match, which are weirdly starting to pick up instead of slow. And there's some rhythmic little fwip-fwip-fwip noise that he can't quite place and is all the more irritating for that fact.

The important thing, though? The red-condomed jackass is still around, and that means that Gren's boner aggression can go to good use. He got his blood up for a fucking fight and he's going to finish, goddammit.

He follows the sounds, stalking through the aisles until he turns around one to see Wade's back, crouched down and--

And... doing... something with his hands. At crotch-height. Rhythmically.

Gren's train of thought kind of gets a little derailed at that point, on account of what the fuck.

"...You, uh... fuckin' need a minute there?"

Gren wants to knock this guy's block off, sure, but he wasn't planning on doing it while he's got his cock out, too. He's not into that? No judgment, some people are into that and that's fine, but he would've wanted a little warning if things were turning in that direction.

[ishotyouuu]

Rude, Gren. It's one thing to walk in on a guy while he's in the process of charging his weapon. It's quite another to judge a dude's technique of charging said weapon (and he can totally see you judging there dude don't even try to deny it).

Wade's only response is a glare upwards in Gren's direction before he adjusts his grip, sliding the beam katana up and down between his hands in a jigging motion in an attempt to breathe life, as it were, back into it.

"...hah... just... gimme a few seconds there, Chief. I'll be... ngh... right there to kill ya. Just sit tight."

[murderpotato]

There's still the question of whether Wade is jerking himself off or his weird lightsaber knockoffs, and Gren's not really sure if he wants to look and find out. He didn't sign up to be someone's real-time spank bank material.

(On the other hand, he does have big hands, and Gren knows what they say about men with big hands. So sue him, he's curious. And thirsty.)

"You gonna be able to keep it up long enough to do shit?"

It's a legitimate question, and totally not a reference to the aforementioned cock that Gren's still not a hundred percent sure if he wants to try to see.

"Didn't take you real fuckin' long to go limp."