legionworld | [OPEN] Getting to grips

Entry tags:

[OPEN] Getting to grips

Who| Rico Dredd, and anyone!
What| Rico's getting adjusted. Discovering sugar and telling people to move out of his way.
Where| Mess Hall, Observation Deck
When| Before Bodies for Rent
Warnings/Notes| Rico's an asshole. Warning for violence, fighting, blood, threats of bodily harm, and treating sugar like an addictive substance (i.e. drug talk). Will match formats.

[A: Mess Hall]

[It had taken a long time for Rico to get adjusted to his new surroundings. After the expected violent outburst after waking up, he was upset. Not because he was just faced with the knowledge that his entire universe was in danger, that Mega-City One was in danger. No. It was more that he was yanked out of his world by the scruff of his neck, and had a lot of schemes he'd spent time and effort setting up. A lot of fingers in a lot of different pies whose outcomes he was just waiting to realize.]

[But Hell, the only saving grace is that at least he might just get a kick out of all this. So he took the oath, if only for them to get off his back about it. Time would tell whether he felt like following it or not. But for now? The Mess Hall would be where he could get a feel for the social dynamics that run through this place. And he'll be damned if Rico Dredd never comes out on top. And he's hardly going to let a little thing like being dropped into a completely unfamiliar environment alone and without backup hold him back.]

[He strides into the mess hall with a natural arrogance, a swagger to his step that could be mistaken for confidence. Of course, with how packed it is, and how he isn't making any attempt to move out of anybody's way - fully expecting them to move for him - somebody might accidentally jostle him and his rather bulky and pointy eagle-shaped shoulder pad. If that happens?]

Hey!

[He barks out sharply in a gravel rough voice, in a tone that demands immediate attention. He cocks his head to the side, overhead lighting reflecting a glint off his black visor where his eyes should be. He crooks a finger, beckoning them to come closer as his mouth twitches up in the beginnings of a smile.]

You gonna apologize for that?

[B: Mess Hall]

[Rico is sitting at a table with his back to the wall, with a baton kept loosely in his lap, staring at an unopened packet of sugar in the palm of his hand. He knew that The Legion had different practices, different laws but this was really something else. He tears the packet open with delicately pinched fingers, spilling the white crystals onto the table, and sniffs. He takes off a glove, dips his finger in the pile, brings it up to his face for careful scrutiny, then licks it.]

Oh, what the drokk? [He murmurs under his breath as he pulls back, confusion and tentative excitement mixing in his voice.] They can't be serious.

[He starts picking up more packets, one by one, and ripping them all open. Soon, there's a veritable pile of sugar on the table. But if someone were to come a little later and perhaps want a sugar for their coffee or tea this morning...? Well too bad. It's all been confiscated. If you reach out for one, expect to be impeded by a black baton.]

Sorry. [He doesn't sound very sorry at all. Actually, he almost sounds a little gleeful. He's well aware he has very little authority here, but that's not going to stop him from pretending that he does. Also, he might have slipped a packet or two into his own pockets.] Restricted substances. Mind your own business and move along.

[C: Observation Deck]

[The Observation Deck. Rico leans forward against a railing, looking down at the view. It's mostly empty for now, and he enjoys the rare peace. No shouting citizens, no endless, pointless chatter, or explosions. He's been a Mega-City boy all his life, never been to space, and despite his best efforts not to be impressed, it still captures his attention like nothing else.]

[Rico feels the prickle of a stare bouncing off the back of his helmet, and working on an instinct that every Street Judge has - or at least, the ones that aren't dumb as dirt and still alive - he fingers the baton by his side and says out loud without turning around;]

You looking at me, creep?

[D: Wildcard option!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Rico doesn't say anything for a second. Just tilts his visor to the show and watches for a brief moment, the innocent joy on people's faces. The simple delight it brings to the crowd as the delicate flutter of paper assembles and re-assembles in an array of magical displays. And for a moment, he feels the tiniest stirring of emotion. With this in mind, he turns back to the juve with with a wide, wide, terrible smile. And in a deep, hoarse voice that does not go with the cheerful tone;

"No, I think you're in the middle of an apology!"

Which is exactly why he lifts his foot and crushes a folded paper figure under his steel-capped boot. Then grinds it into the ground for good measure.

Kubo has gotten a lot more paper than just what his mother gave him in life since he arrived in Legionworld. The treated waterproof, fireproof, micro-edged combat paper Brainy whipped up for him sometimes makes its way into his shows, when he's doing a particularly big effect. That paper might find its way under a boot without too bad an effect.

But Kubo mostly falls back on his old, familiar material when he's just putting on a performance. So the red paper Rico grinds into the ground is one of Mother's treasured gifts, impossible to replace, even in this digital future where paper is rare.

The music stops with a twang and a gasp from the audience, mostly made up of Legionworld employees on their carefully-timed breaks, and Kubo's only eye widens at the callous display.

With a few power chords, all the rest of his paper snaps flat and flies into a stack behind him. The smashed fragments of paper under Rico's boot tries to respond to the music in the same way, but held in place, only a few scraps break free to fly to Kubo, standing in between this unkind person and his paper.

"I'm sorry this is where you want to walk, but I perform here every day," he proclaims, his voice trembling slightly with astonished outrage. There was no reason for that cruelty. No reason for this man to care that it is a treasured gift from a dead mother he has stomped on, either, so why even bring that up?

"Any other time you can walk through here, but I've been performing here since I arrived. The lighting is best and the sound carries farthest."

Kubo keeps eyeing the fragments of red paper under Rico's boot as he stands his ground. It's damaged and probably dirtied now, but it's still a gift and he still at the end of this confrontation wanted to get it back.

Rico can't lie; it's the exact kind of reaction he'd wanted. The paper snapping up in the air is a little bit of a surprise though - he hadn't taken it for anything more than a toy. But Rico's instinct for feeling anything struggling under his boot is to press down harder, and that's exactly what he does. Normally it's somebody's face, but judging by the look on the kid's face? It might as well be the same thing.

"See, you said sorry, but I don't think I heard the right kind of apology. You keep talking at me, but I'm not hearing any 'I'm very sorry Judge, I promise I won't do it again' in there."

Rico swings his daystick in circles idly, and it comes to a stop pointing right in Kubo's face. It's a dramatic gesture, but the sentiment is very much there.

"And that's an admission to conspiring to cause a public disturbance. Not to mention cheeking a Judge. Breach of the peace, disorderly conduct, and unlawful assembly. Show's over. Get lost."

The threat of the daystick would phase Kubo a more if his father were not in the audience, somewhere. Maybe a little distracted, but Beetle's attention never wandered that far from one of Kubo's shows. It's much easier for Kubo to look an adult with a weapon in the eye and stand his ground with that in mind.

Which doesn't mean he isn't afraid. "You're right, it wasn't a proper apology," he agrees, adrenaline from the threat of the daystick putting another small quiver in his voice. He doesn't want to be hurt, but he also has no reason to give in to someone threatening that. And the man was a Judge, which meant he was probably from America's world, which made his assurance make a lot of sense.

"Because I'm not apologizing," Kubo goes on. "I'm not committing any crimes here. Maybe in your world, I would be, but your rules are not the rules here. I'm a Legionnaire, not a Judge, and so are you now. You have new laws to get used to."

He stares the man in the eye past the nightstick, afraid but not deferring, buoyed by assurance that he is behaving acceptably, and the knowledge that somewhere in the audience, someone is on his side. With a lot of arrows.

This confidence makes him press on.

"It's not a law that you have to take your foot off that paper, but you should do it anyway," he adds. Maybe it wasn't against the law to be cruel for no reason, to stop someone from doing something harmless just because you were used to crushing joy, but it ought to have been. "That was a gift from my mother."

Edited (I'm sorry my tenses keep slipping) 2017-07-08 19:18 (UTC)

Rico cocks his head to the side. Wow. Is this juve moralizing at him? What he's saying barely even makes sense to Rico. He understands the individual words that come out of Kubo's mouth, but strung together into a sentence, it makes a concept he's barely familiar with. He's a Judge. When does he not have jurisdiction?

"I don't have to do anything the law doesn't tell me. But as far as I'm concerned, kid? I am the law."

The law isn't just something he carries with him. It's something Rico embodies. And if the law is cruel, nonsensical, and needlessly strict? Well, that's just too bad. He bends down at the waist, and comes up very close to Kubo's face, talking in a lower tone of voice.

"Just between us, kid? I'm a very reasonable man. I like to think I let a lot of things slide! And that's why I haven't broken your kneecaps. Because I respect the Legion. So be thankful for that."

That's a lie, threefold. He's not very reasonable, he doesn't respect the Legion, and if he had his lawgiver on him, he would have shot him instead. But he's not interested in kicking up a fuss in front of all these people. It would be pretty hard to explain away to say the least. So instead, he stands back up, smiling as if he hadn't just threatened a fourteen year old to his face.

If the Judge expects this to scare Kubo, he may be surprised when it does the opposite. The boy inhales angrily, better to project his next statements.

"You're not gonna break my kneecaps because that's not something you're allowed to do here," he insists, his voice carrying across the cafeteria. Kubo's ability to be loud and understood by a crowd helped keep him and his mother fed through his childhood. It's an asset especially now.

"You're not the law. You're not even acting like a Legionnaire. We don't threaten people for no good reason."

This has to be known and stopped, now. Better that this guy make it clear who he is with Kubo, rather than threatening one of the many civilians on the ship, who might actually feel alone and powerless enough to be scared.

Kubo strums a few notes on his shamisen and more paper flies out of his pack. Not the treasured sheets from Mother and home, but the treated, waterproof, fireproof paper Kubo has on hand for missions. The black and orange sheets twist in the air around him, but not to attack - instead they fold themselves into an approximate shape of the Judge and land on the ground between them.

Kubo smirks, stepping back slowly as he plays. Paper Judge struts and postures, the figure conveying with masterful body language his very, very high opinion of himself, before sticking one tiny, impossibly detailed folded finger into his nose.

Someone in the audience giggles.

Rico always has a good reason for threatening someone. And if he doesn't, he makes one up on the report. It's almost standard practice for the Justice Department, really. But whatever restraint Rico's been showing up to this point - and he has, he well and truly has - goes flying out of the window the second he sees a tiny, miniature paper helmet and realises what he's doing.

Objectively, there's a similarity in the posture there, but the finger up the nose is the last straw. With an outright snarl forming on his lips, he snatches the little figure up from the ground and crushes it in his gloved fist. He tosses the remains to the side and advances on Kubo, the slope of his shoulders promising a ten-fold retribution, his daystick held in a white-knuckled grip.

"You think you're real funny, don't you?"

If anyone were to intervene, now would be a good time before kneecaps are smashed.

As if on cue, a shimmering barrier of blue force springs up in front of Rico. Looks like the commotion has drawn some attention.

"If you've really got a problem with this, I'd suggest filing an official complaint." Garrus's voice comes from over Rico's shoulder, as the turian enters the mess hall. "Generally speaking, assaulting kids is frowned upon."

"What, you don't like a touch of comedy to lighten up a situation?"

Kubo keeps up his playing, the crushed piece of Mother's paper flying with the rest of the undamaged sheets into his pack. If Rico thought the crushed Judge was completely out of commission, too, he may be surprised when the paper's crushed remains scoot back between the retreating Kubo and advancing Rico. The crumpled figure tries to regain its former shape and respond to the music Kubo plays, but its clumsy, half-broken movements continue to be comical only because Rico hasn't left any room for the audience to perceive him as sympathetic.

The shimmering barrier is neat, and not entirely expected, and Kubo doesn't recognize the speaker personally. He does recall looking through some of his message traffic from when the Time Ripples were making him older, though, and realizes he's spoken to Garrus before. He just doesn't remember doing it.

"That always goes over well for me," he goes on, voice-acting unconcerned, a little less of an act now that Rico is contained. But his glance still darts to the audience, looking for his father's looming shape.

(deleted comment)

"Generally speaking, this is an obstruction of justice." Rico hisses. He doesn't need this nosy alien interfering. This music needs to stop, now. "I'll do more than just frown if you don't lower this right drokking now."

He takes a swing with his daystick at the barrier to demonstrate, and it bounces right off, much to his mounting frustration. He seethes, because if there's anything Rico hates, it's being undermined. Fine. The boy can wait. He'll deal with the source problem himself. He flips the daystick in his hand, adjusting his grip, and turns fully to the alien as he bites out two words.

"Last. Chance."

Obstruction of justice. So he's a crooked cop, too.

This just keeps getting better.

"You're at least a dimension outside of your jurisdiction. As far as the law here is concerned, all you're doing is threatening another Legionnaire." Garrus replies coolly. There's no fear in his voice, but there is tension in his shoulders, a slight bend to his knees ... he's braced if Rico decides to make a move.

"Or you'll do what, exactly?" Garrus asks, arching an eyebrow. "If you take a crack at either of us, you don't think that the dozen other Legionnaires in the room are going to come over and see what all the fuss is about?"

Because Garrus isn't sure how things work wherever this 'Judge' is from, but he's pretty sure that isn't going to fly here.

"Do yourself a favor and cool down before you make this worse for yourself."

Edited 2017-07-08 22:26 (UTC)

The music does stop, only because Kubo's point is made. The crushed paper Judge stays where it's fallen on the floor, and Kubo's hands are only on the strings now in case he has to return Garrus' favor and help his fellow Legionnaire.

He knows that de-escalating the situation is the right choice, but anger at being threatened is impeding his ability to think of much that's useful to the conversation. Useful to remember, for when he's back at de-escalation training - how do you de-escalate when you're so angry that you want to see a person shoot themselves in the foot?

He does take a breath and consider things harder. "I know it's hard to adjust when the rules are so different from yours, but there are a lot of people here who can help you through it."

That's decent to have settled on, he thinks. Lots of people are adjusting to changes in their power and social standing here . . . just, not lots of people whose first instinct is to jump to threatening people much smaller and younger than them.

Kubo doesn't expect to like this new Judge the way he likes America.

Rico outright laughs. It's hard suddenly not to find the humor in this situation. He's standing here, being lectured by a juve who thinks he knows all about the law, and a bleeding heart, leather-faced alien is telling him to cool down.

"I don't need lip from something that doesn't have lips. And don't make me laugh. I could take on a dozen of you creeps, no sweat." he mocks, cocky and confident. He takes several slow, deliberate steps closer, boots treading heavy on the ground, and comes to a stop in front of him as he stares down Garrus.

"And don't talk down to me either, punk," he spits out at Kubo without turning his head. His blood boils at the thought of the juve pretending to be understanding. "You think hiding behind that barrier's gonna protect you for long? You're next."

He swings his daystick up so it points just under Garrus's chin. "Just as soon as I finish taking out the trash."

Edited 2017-07-09 04:53 (UTC)

Garrus's eyes narrow and his mandibles twitch in visible irritation as he pushes the daystick away.

"Even if you manage to come out on top, this doesn't end well for you," Garrus warns. "Right now you've got an opportunity to walk away with a write-up. Take it any further and the people in charge are going to come down on you hard."

An appeal to Rico's sense of self-preservation, because something about him tells Garrus that appealing to his sense of decency would be like trying to push a rope uphill.

"Unless you're really interested in seeing the inside of science cell, do the smart thing and back off."

That being said, there's some not-so-small part of him that's hoping Rico decides to try and back up his threats, consequences be damned. Garrus may have only just met Rico, but Rico's done an amazing job of embodying every trait that makes Garrus see red when they show up behind a badge. He won't take the first swing, but if he has to defend himself he's not exactly going to lose sleep over taking this arrogant bastard down a peg or two.

You're next. The threats of violence just made Kubo angrier. Who else would this guy threaten on the ship just for standing their ground, who'd actually be afraid? There were so many civilians who worked here, so many young people who hadn't already been hurt by needlessly cruel persons who believed their authority was law.

That was the comparison, he realized, that was making his blood boil. The Moon King had believed his own whims and arrogant pride were worth being upheld as law. This Judge did the same thing. Maybe with written laws at his back, but if there was a written law that said he could do this - then it was a terrible law, worth standing up against.

And there was less an excuse for it, from this man. As far as Kubo knew, he was as mortal as the Moon King had not been. Just another flesh and blood person experiencing all the trials and joys of mortality . . . and he'd still decided that his whims mattered more than other peoples' right to their own, peaceful lives.

He pulled out his omnicom and started to record the situation. It meant letting go of his shamisen, but he'd dropped the device before without breaking it, and he could drop it again if Garrus needed backup.

"You need to stop threatening us. I told you that's not how Legionnaires do things. Why do you think you're allowed to break my kneecaps just for already being where you wanted to walk?"

It was a little bit of a redundant question, particularly with all the witnesses, but it would get the Judge talking. And then Kubo could keep as many civilian witnesses as possible out of the Judge's attention. Better that no one else got hurt because of a fight he was in.

Not like the last time his village had suffered, just because he had lived in it.

Rico's sense of self-preservation is, indeed, very strong. But Garrus picked the wrong path to go down. The fear of higher ups coming down on him for any reason other than the discovery of his corruption has long vanished from Rico's mind. Chief Judge Goodman lets them get away with much more than they should, because he's fond of the Fargo clones, him and Joe, and there's never been anything more punishing than a slap on the wrist for either of them. Everybody knows that.

Rico keeps a keen sense of situational awareness, and twitches in Kubo's direction when he pulls out a device. He pegs it as not a weapon almost immediately and realises it's his communicator. Oh, great. Another one like that. He pitches his voice louder, because if he wants a show, he'll give them a show.

"You really want a lesson in the law, punk? You really think that's going to shame me? You're not the first cit to pull out a personal recording device and think that makes them in the right." He lets Garrus push his daystick away, because it's not going to matter in a minute.

"You were blocking the pedways in a high traffic location, having an unlicensed little sing-along. Somebody could've gotten hurt. Suppose there was a fire, and two hundred died because of that? There was a similar case in Plath Block just last week. Laws exist for a reason. Was I supposed to stand for that? And am I supposed to stand for the obstruction of justice?"

He flicks out his daystick by his side, and stands with all the confidence of somebody who knows they're in the right.

"I don't have the authority to sentence you. But I can arrest you."

And with that, his hand darts out and makes a targeted, lightning-fast swing with his daystick at Garrus's abdomen. He can tell that the alien is braced for the possibility, but Rico isn't afraid of retaliation.

Garrus is braced, but Rico is fast - fast enough that the hit might have connected if it wasn't for Garrus's second power.

While threat detection isn't exactly as flashy as the glowing blue energy constructs, having an early-warning radar has it's uses. Situations like this, for example, where the sharp buzzing in the back of his mind tips him off the second Rico starts moving. From there, reflex kicks in and Garrus quickly shifts to the outside to avoid the swinging arc of Rico's daystick. As soon as it's clear, Garrus leans in and brings his knee rocketing up towards Rico's chin.

It's a hard shot - one that'll rattle teeth if it connects and buy Garrus the room to think, take a step back, and throw an energy dome around Rico to contain him until someone can arrive and deal with this.

"Attacking kids for nonviolent offenses isn't justice, it's an abuse of power. If you want to wave your badge around and talk down to everyone about the law, that's fine. Pompous and reeking of insecurity, maybe, but there's no law against that." Garrus snarls, taking a step towards the bubble. "But you don't get to push around people weaker than you, pick fights, and call yourself noble."

And, as much as he'd like to lift up his construct and shake Rico around like a snow globe, he's going to practice what he preaches even if it means he's probably going to get reprimanded alongside Rico. Instead of taking this entirely into his own hands, he pulls out his comm and opens a channel.

"This is Archangel. We've got a bit of an altercation down in the mess hall, anyone able to come check things out?"

Rico has made a mistake. No. That's not possible. He never makes mistakes. Rico's the best on the streets, how did he miss? There's a brief flash of incomprehension before the impact rocks him back, staggering him backward. His head snaps back and his vision explodes. He blinks away the whiteness creeping in from the sides of his vision as he wills his feet to stay planted.

It's a struggle to stay upright. Grud, what was it about the chin that made every damn creep on the planet go for it? He runs his tongue over his teeth quickly. Good. All there.

He's ready to take the followup strike, maybe even to counter if he has his head screwed on straight by then, when instead, another blue barrier appears close in front of him. He leaps back, only for his back to hit a wall. The prickling realization clears the haze of single-minded aggression clouding his brain, and he sees his situation with fresh eyes. He's not just a dumb street jockey. It looks bad, but there's a way. There's always a way.

"If the books say it's justice? It's justice." No matter how drokked up that may be. If he has to accept it, so do you. Rico wills his throat and voice to work properly, tongue feeling sluggish in his mouth. He clicks into the comm, biting off words with a slight slur. "This is Arbitraitor. Cancel that request. It's being handled."

He clicks off, then hurls himself at the glowing barrier. He keeps up his assault as long as he can, but two hundred pounds of resentful Judge isn't doing much and he's aware he's on a time limit. Deep breaths. Come on, think! It's impossible to keep his dignity like this. He has to get out, because they are laughing at him out there and there is no other option, he can't accept that they're laughing at him, don't you understand this shouldn't be here -

He's suddenly, viciously aware that nobody gets in the way of Rico Dredd. It's like something clicks inside him, something he always knew. This is a truth of the universe. And if there's something in the way of what he wants? He can snap his fingers, and boom. It's gone. Rico is the center of his own, egotistical world, and what he says, goes. He breathes out in slow realization with a lightning spark in his eyes, dredges up that iron-clad certainty, and starts walking towards Garrus, through the barrier which is left untouched aside from a ripple. He grins through a mouth full of blood.

"Surprise."

"This is Paperboy," Kubo starts to say over the comms, ready to cancel Arbitraitor's cancellation. His voice shakes slightly. Two hundred people dying over his routine performances is certainly hyperbole, but the claim hits him in the place that has never forgotten all the people who've already died because of his mistakes.

And is it hyperbole, really? What would he do if there were a fire, a sudden attack in this safe place? Where are the exits? Does everyone know where to flee, would his audience be in the way - ? How bad could that be?

Rico's succeeded at this, at least - doubt has wound itself into Kubo's thoughts.

But then the Judge walks straight through Garrus' magic barrier and Kubo drops his omnicom, leaping to support the other Legionnaire. His fingers fly to the strings and paper jets out of his pack. Five or so float between Rico and Garrus, spinning around Rico's line of sight in an obscuring ring. Another handful of sheets fold into paper birds, fluttering around Rico's ears with a cacophony of folded wings, confusing the sound of Kubo's playing as he runs to Rico's left, keeping the judge triangulated.

He might not have been able to stand up to America's Applied Violence training, but he does pay attention in Tactics classes, and his fingers are as quick and precise even as his distress, the possibility that Garrus might now be hurt because of him, leaks into his expression.

Garrus is about to inform whoever is on the line that Arbitraitor is actually the problem, but the words catch in his throat as Rico steps forward, passing through the barrier like it wasn't even there.

That's a problem, and for the first time in this entire encounter, Garrus looks a little bit concerned about the outcome.

That concern vanishes quickly though as Garrus's foot slides back and he crouches into a combat stance, bringing his hands up to his chin. Part of him wants to bark out a warning, but if Rico had any intention of standing down, he would have stayed inside of the barrier. That blood-stained grin was a bloodstained promise that he'd keep on coming as long as he was physically able to, and if he wanted to avoid any injury, Garrus needed to put Rico down quickly.

So the moment Kubo's birds block Rico's line of sight, Garrus darts in with a hard right hook towards Rico's ribs.

Kubo's interference is... irritating, and it only makes it worse for him in Rico's eyes. His vision and hearing is somewhat limited by the fact, but he's not flying totally blind. At least the paper isn't trying to slip under his helmet and slash up his face. Not that he would care about a little paper cut, but blood running in his eyes would be a problem.

He might not be able to see some of Garrus, but he can sure as drokk still make out plenty of his lanky body. He knows that a strike was incoming and braces himself to take it, unconcerned with pain as long as he could pay it back with a vengeance, and smiling considering no matter how much it'll hurt - and it will - it still beats getting smashed in by a daystick.

Rico's hand darts down and just barely intercepts the hook. He normally would've dodged, but he doesn't want to risk being on the back foot while his vision is obstructed. And while the impact stings, the pain is distant from his mind, already compartmentalized. With his other arm, he swings his daystick forcefully at Garrus's midsection. Organs are organs, no matter how alien they are.

Garrus had been hoping the punch would land clean, but apparently even distracted and dazed, Rico isn't all bluster. Instead of connecting, Rico manages to deflect his fist so it only grazes.

Garrus is stepping forward to follow up when, out of the corner of his eye, he sees the daystick swinging in on the outside. There's no time to move out of the way, so instead, he tucks his arm in across his side - trying to spread the impact over as large an area as possible to limit the damage.

It's almost an afterthought, but he also throws up a barrier to cover his side. Hopefully it'll actually do it's job this time, otherwise this is going to hurt.

That's why he has to make the next shot count. So he doesn't stop his forward momentum. He carries through, and with his free hand he ducks low to check Rico's chin again - this time with an uppercut.

Rico is the best, for all his bluster. Immaculate scores all around, from an institution of violence. His tutors talk of an overconfidence problem, and he seems like he wouldn't be able to hold his head up under the weight of his own ego, but that ego is based on genuine results. His irritating cockiness rests on the ability to carry out his threats, and knowing it.

Rico snarls as the daystick bounces off the barrier. He hadn't expected the alien to be capable of such fine control over his constructs, and he wants to see blood now. But as unexpected as it is, he lets the momentum carry him just out of the rather long reach of Garrus's uppercut. And then all of a sudden, it seems like they're in the perfect position for some ironic revenge.

Thank you. Rico thinks, with an eager anticipation. For meeting me on my own level.

He brings his knee shooting up towards Garrus's jaw, with all the ill-feeling he has inside him.

Edited 2017-07-11 08:38 (UTC)

Fine control, Garrus has. The current chink in his armor is reaction time. He's still getting used to his new powers, and while his threat detection kicks in all on it's own, the energy constructs take conscious thought. They're not second nature to him yet, so he has to think. If he has a beat to react - if he sees the attack coming soon enough - that's not a problem.

But Rico is damn fast, fast enough that Garrus doesn't have the beat he needs to put a wall in between them. Instead, he throws his left arm down in a wide arc, trying to push the knee out of the way and absorb whatever impact he can't deflect.

Even then, Rico's knee hits hard enough to send a shock all the way up Garrus's arm - a flare of pain that makes the turian grit his teeth.

But Rico isn't the only one who's done this before. Rico hits hard - harder than Garrus was expecting, for sure - but not as hard as an angry Krogan. It's going to take more than some admittedly very painful deep bruising to take Garrus out of this.

So he keeps moving forward, and as he advances, he throws a hard kick at Rico's outside ankle - one with enough follow-through to take the Judge off his feet if he isn't careful.

im so sorry

OMG IT'S ON

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