[67] life's a game we're meant to lose

[buildstherobots]

[phone]

Fine. You people want to play that way?

Enjoy educating newcomers by yourselves. I'm done helping you.

[And, true to his word, he won't be handing out any more letters, at least for the moment. Explain what he's talking about? Why in the world would he do that? Obviously the actions of maybe three people is enough for him to throw a tantrum over the phone lines.]

[action]

[Anyone who might see Dist walking through the streets can see that he's an absolute wreck. Not emotionally -- his expression is uncharacteristically stony. It's his face that's busted up, bruised across his cheek and mouth and his left eye patched over. Well, the place where his left eye should be, but that's not exactly visible. It'd happened a couple of days ago, but that's not quite long enough to heal fully, so for now he's just combed his hair forward a bit in an attempt to cover it all up.

He does seem to have a destination in mind, though, as he's walking particularly quickly.]

[729 Anderson lane]

[KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.]

Comments

[action]

[nomorelosing.livejournal.com]

[here's a Kaz, walking through the streets. he was on his way to the grocery store to see if he could make something salvageable for dinner tonight, but given his overall mood these past few days (unsurprising given the events of the past few days. almost feels like waking up from a nightmare only to discover that you were never really asleep to begin with), it's very difficult if not impossible to even manage a smile.

seeing Dist lends him pause, though. there's one person who looks significantly more unhappy than himself. not that he really notices until he walks right into the man, nearly knocking him off his feet.]

- Ah! S-Sorry...! [he reaches out to grab Dist by the arm before he falls backwards.] Didn't see you there!

[buildstherobots.livejournal.com]

[Once Dist has his feet, he shakes Kaz off, nearly hissing at the contact.]

How dare you?! Look where you're going!

[nomorelosing.livejournal.com]

[...GOTTA SAY, NOT THE REACTION HE WAS EXPECTING.]

...I'm sorry, okay?! I didn't see you! [but now that he has, holy shit. either this guy got into a losing fight with a lawn mower or he has a lot of enemies.] Are you alright? You look...

[awful would be too nice of a word, so he just gestures to his own intact eye for emphasis.]

[buildstherobots.livejournal.com]

[Oh, Dist picks up the implications. He gives a nasty glare.]

Terrible? Why yes, I had noticed. And I'm fine.

[Don't take it personally, bro. He's just in a bad mood.]

Phone

[doctor-tyrant.livejournal.com]

I sense... the bitter stings of ingratitude. What ails you, my friend?

[buildstherobots.livejournal.com]

I am not your friend! I don't even know you!

[Yeah, guess what Dist's beef is right now?]

The Doctor is not a little green girl.

[doctor-tyrant.livejournal.com]

[The Doctor... doesn't stifle a laugh. He outright chuckles after being yelled at.]

Quite so. Yet you're addressing me and all the other people who you "don't even know"... quite loudly too.

I believe I have the right to ask... what ails you, my friend?

totally is

[buildstherobots.livejournal.com]

[Dist is not at all in a good place to be mocked at the moment.]

People like you! I'm sure you just use and throw people away too.

You can't prove it, the tests never came back :I

[doctor-tyrant.livejournal.com]

Use people? Throw people away? Oh, nonsense.

[His smile stretches a little.]

I value cooperation beyond anything. Whatever happened to you is a tragedy. To be discarded like that is just too cruel.

[phone]

[uranophobe.livejournal.com]

Who are you, anyway? [hey, watched you get your ass beat. it was alright. 6/10, tops.]

[buildstherobots.livejournal.com]

You know who I am! Shut up!

[Okay, they haven't spoken much, but... once or twice!]

[uranophobe.livejournal.com]

[sorry dist pink ponies officially outrank you on the mental importance list] Do I? [flip

flip

flip flip

yeah just looking through his notes here don't wait up]

[buildstherobots.livejournal.com]

[Hey, Dist is pretty pink.]

...What are you doing?

[Action]

[myblimpisbigger.livejournal.com]

[WELL WHO COULD THAT BE KNOCKING ON KLAUS'S DOOR?

Oh it's just Dist. A very battered Dist, too.]

Yes?

[buildstherobots.livejournal.com]

Give me my gun back.

[myblimpisbigger.livejournal.com]

It is no longer your gun.

By which I mean, not only did you give it to me, but I have made enough improvements that your original design is all but lost. Thus it is more my work than yours by this point.

Besides, I assume you still have that excessive battle clank of yours?

[buildstherobots.livejournal.com]

Excessive?! How dare--

[Dist dials it back just far enough to try and push past Klaus into the house.]

That's not the point! I just... I need it!

[He sounds more than a little bit distraught.]

Action

[prpl_assistant]

(Miss Pauling just happened to be walking around town. Unfortunately, a passer-by runs by and accidentally knocks her bag onto the ground.)

Ah! Hey!

(Whoever it is, he just yells an apology at her, but he needs to be somewhere urgently. Glaring at his retreating back, she takes a deep breath before she starts to pick up her fallen items. However, the wind picked that moment to blow a certain pamphlet away and across the street.)

Oh no!

(The wind snatches the introduction letter away from her grasp, and it happens to blow the paper smack into Dist's face.)

Oh, I'm so sorry sir! Are you alright?

(She hasn't seen his bruised up face yet, as the paper's sticking to his face due to the strong wind.)

[buildstherobots.livejournal.com]

[Dist snatches the paper away from his face, giving the woman a glare that could possibly melt steel.]

Are you an idiot?

[The question is clearly rhetorical; he doesn't wait for an answer before looking down at the paper, then crumpling it up into a ball with a sneer.]

[prpl_assistant]

(There are very few things that actually get Miss Pauling angry. Being called an idiot is not one of them (she gets it quite a lot back home, she's pretty much immune to it).

However, she definitely does not appreciate people who touch her notes and sources of information.)

Excuse me, but that is my introduction letter.

(She snatches the ball of paper away from him. Her voice is soft, but it's got a hint of anger inside it. She doesn't care that he's beaten up; OK, maybe she does, but he'd better have a good reason for crumpling up the letter that saved her life when she first got here.)

[buildstherobots.livejournal.com]

I know what it is. I wrote it, and now I'm no longer distributing it. None of you deserve my brilliance.

[He's seething as he says it, but he doesn't reach out for the paper again.]

[phone]

[withwinter.livejournal.com]

But what will all of those poor people do without your help?

[buildstherobots.livejournal.com]

Why should that be my problem?

[withwinter.livejournal.com]

Didn't you find it enjoyable to do?

[buildstherobots.livejournal.com]

Not when they take advantage of my generosity.