"Aye."
Volume louder, new tone contrasting to the dispassionate one he'd made a minute ago.
"Give that back now."
The skateboard from Kris. Bastard had stolen it, snatched it right out of his hand as if Kyran were some kind of baby holding candy. Like this Dean was nothing. Because bastard thought he could get away with it, because bigger. Trying to make him feel as small as his stature.
The heartbeat could be felt like a pulse drumming through his brain as he stood up from his bike lock, feeling tense, heat rising through his veins, hands ready to curl up into fists, as everything else faded. Not noticing they now had the attention of a few passing kids, stopping to watch.
"You Dick."
Banging Out A Headache
Seventh Grade (Paging Psych, Others PM if interested please)
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MurderWeasel
- Posts: 3442
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Dean just kept pushing it. Just kept on doing his level fucking best to get under Richard's skin and escalate the situation. He could not leave well enough alone. He could not roll over and take what was coming and instead had to go and earn more, second and third helpings, enough bad news to keep him busy a long, long time. But you know what?
Whatever.
That worked for Richard. He'd tried to be sort of nice about this, all things considered. He'd found some grudging respect, given Dean ample opportunities to walk away, but what he hadn't understood until this moment was that the guy just did not understand his station.
It was far too late for this to go anywhere but south, but for one last moment Richard let them both pretend.
"What's the magic word?"
Whatever.
That worked for Richard. He'd tried to be sort of nice about this, all things considered. He'd found some grudging respect, given Dean ample opportunities to walk away, but what he hadn't understood until this moment was that the guy just did not understand his station.
It was far too late for this to go anywhere but south, but for one last moment Richard let them both pretend.
"What's the magic word?"
Richard taunted him, like the fat guy from Jurassic Park.
For once, Kyran Dean realized the parallels. A smug, pigheaded, thief who thought he was smarter than his victims. Probably deserved to be spat on by a frilled dinosaur too. Most of all, he was an obnoxious giggling bully, the real weak one here. That was no monster. Nope. All: Bluster.
That's when he postured up, the mere five foot of himself. Stood up with confidence and spine stature as straight as could be, chin up, leering at the 'weak punk, wannabe tough guy' his dad would describe, in front of him.
Guess, Richard hadn't heard him the first time, when he called him Dick. Kyran might have considered saying it louder, more clearly so Dick would know the magic word. Dick hated being called Dick. But nah, the youngest Dean figured out something better.
Kyran Dean stepped forward, steel in the eyes, and stopped a foot in front of Dick Ormsby. He raised a brow and tilted his head ever so slightly, lifting one corner of his mouth. A brief one-sided smile, before returning to the cool, unruffled glare from a few seconds before. Dad said to be strong, so it was time to prove how strong this Dean could be.
He didn't say the magic word?
Yeah.
"So?"
For once, Kyran Dean realized the parallels. A smug, pigheaded, thief who thought he was smarter than his victims. Probably deserved to be spat on by a frilled dinosaur too. Most of all, he was an obnoxious giggling bully, the real weak one here. That was no monster. Nope. All: Bluster.
That's when he postured up, the mere five foot of himself. Stood up with confidence and spine stature as straight as could be, chin up, leering at the 'weak punk, wannabe tough guy' his dad would describe, in front of him.
Guess, Richard hadn't heard him the first time, when he called him Dick. Kyran might have considered saying it louder, more clearly so Dick would know the magic word. Dick hated being called Dick. But nah, the youngest Dean figured out something better.
Kyran Dean stepped forward, steel in the eyes, and stopped a foot in front of Dick Ormsby. He raised a brow and tilted his head ever so slightly, lifting one corner of his mouth. A brief one-sided smile, before returning to the cool, unruffled glare from a few seconds before. Dad said to be strong, so it was time to prove how strong this Dean could be.
He didn't say the magic word?
Yeah.
"So?"
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MurderWeasel
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Dean got up in his face, and Richard gave a look to Dan and Tyler, like, "See this guy? Who the fuck does he think he is?" The two of them were just kind of watching, though, waiting to see how it all shook out. Richard had to go with something real good now, else he'd look like he was all bark. Richard was not all bark. Dean had, through ignorance or profound overconfidence, engineered a situation that would now have ripples and repercussions.
Richard did some quick mental arithmetic. A suspension wouldn't hurt him that bad right now. His family'd be pissed, but they'd understand when he explained.
"Nah, not that one," he said to Dean. He said it like Mr. Gallegos, the math teacher, said things when someone was acting extra dense but he couldn't actually tell them that without getting some helicopter mom breaking off her rotors up his ass. Richard leaned over, acting like he was totally unconcerned with Dean's false bravado. He'd seen this before. It was probably the teachers' fault, really. They'd insinuate that saying no real loud was a great way to solve conflicts, and maybe when there were teachers around it was. Richard did take a quick glance behind him at that thought. There were some other kids watching now, but no teachers. Just how he preferred it. Richard set the skateboard down on the ground, gently.
"You ride these like this, right?" he said, stomping down on the middle of the board with all the force and weight he could bring to bear.
Richard did some quick mental arithmetic. A suspension wouldn't hurt him that bad right now. His family'd be pissed, but they'd understand when he explained.
"Nah, not that one," he said to Dean. He said it like Mr. Gallegos, the math teacher, said things when someone was acting extra dense but he couldn't actually tell them that without getting some helicopter mom breaking off her rotors up his ass. Richard leaned over, acting like he was totally unconcerned with Dean's false bravado. He'd seen this before. It was probably the teachers' fault, really. They'd insinuate that saying no real loud was a great way to solve conflicts, and maybe when there were teachers around it was. Richard did take a quick glance behind him at that thought. There were some other kids watching now, but no teachers. Just how he preferred it. Richard set the skateboard down on the ground, gently.
"You ride these like this, right?" he said, stomping down on the middle of the board with all the force and weight he could bring to bear.
Michael knew what crowds in school meant. Crowds never formed in school for one of two reasons. One, it was time for the starving masses to imbibe the reprocessed patties made from the remains of Denton's missing children, also known as lunch time, or reason number dos, shit was about to happen.
This crowd was not appearing in a lunch room. Now the sidewalk outside the school may be as sanitary as the school tables, but it was still most certainly not the lunch room, so that left one other option. He heard chattering from the group that was forming around something in the middle wondering what today's circus to go with the stale bread was.
Michael figured going home could wait a while because he was the one person who never missed it when shit happened. It didn't matter if it were private or public, if someone was catching hands, he was gonna watch it, or take part in it. Since he had no idea what was going to happen, it was pretty much a given he wasn't gonna take part in it, but he was totally gonna spectate it. Shit might be funny.
"Move fucko." and "Geddautta the way, fat-ass!" escaped from his mouth as he pushed past the crowd to see what wonders had caught their eyes. Michael hoped this would be entertaining. He didn't care if it was an outright slugfest, or some weenies windmilling their arms around like some shitty mall goth mosh pit, he just wanted to see some shit go down.
As he shoved his way to the front, he recognized one of the voices of a particular weasel. Fuuuckin' Dicky. Most likely shit wasn't gonna happen. Michael expected that whoever the poor bastard was, they were gonna piss off with their tail between their legs because they didn't want to get jumped by Dicky and his cronies. To be honest, he wouldn't blame them, Ormsby was a poon, it was so easy to shit talk people when you had your buddies ready to jump in when you so much as-
Michael got to the front just as he saw Ormsby jump on some skater boy's board. Michael's eyes moved between the target and Dick. Maybe shit was gonna happen. Michael hoped so. Mike hoped there wouldn't be any damn snitches or teachers splitting this up before it even started.
"Ay, you gon' take that shit?" Michael called out from the crowd.
This crowd was not appearing in a lunch room. Now the sidewalk outside the school may be as sanitary as the school tables, but it was still most certainly not the lunch room, so that left one other option. He heard chattering from the group that was forming around something in the middle wondering what today's circus to go with the stale bread was.
Michael figured going home could wait a while because he was the one person who never missed it when shit happened. It didn't matter if it were private or public, if someone was catching hands, he was gonna watch it, or take part in it. Since he had no idea what was going to happen, it was pretty much a given he wasn't gonna take part in it, but he was totally gonna spectate it. Shit might be funny.
"Move fucko." and "Geddautta the way, fat-ass!" escaped from his mouth as he pushed past the crowd to see what wonders had caught their eyes. Michael hoped this would be entertaining. He didn't care if it was an outright slugfest, or some weenies windmilling their arms around like some shitty mall goth mosh pit, he just wanted to see some shit go down.
As he shoved his way to the front, he recognized one of the voices of a particular weasel. Fuuuckin' Dicky. Most likely shit wasn't gonna happen. Michael expected that whoever the poor bastard was, they were gonna piss off with their tail between their legs because they didn't want to get jumped by Dicky and his cronies. To be honest, he wouldn't blame them, Ormsby was a poon, it was so easy to shit talk people when you had your buddies ready to jump in when you so much as-
Michael got to the front just as he saw Ormsby jump on some skater boy's board. Michael's eyes moved between the target and Dick. Maybe shit was gonna happen. Michael hoped so. Mike hoped there wouldn't be any damn snitches or teachers splitting this up before it even started.
"Ay, you gon' take that shit?" Michael called out from the crowd.
Catche thinks my squirrel is Fisk so here's my daily reminder that he is not.
Kyran's mouth went agape at what happened.
His skateboard, his gift from Kris Hartmann, crushed under Richard's fat troll foot. Split directly in half with one giant stomp.
Kyran could feel his fist curl, his blood boil, his eyebrows crease into furious anger.
Someone called out from the crowd that had grown around him. Willing him on.
That guy was right. His dad was right. He wasn't going to take this - bullshit - any longer.
Something happened, a fused had blown. A roar, was that a roar? He had no idea, everything moved in super speed, as rage poured out through every part of him.
His fist flew, connecting into Richard's soft belly, plunging into him, buckling his hated enemy in satisfying fashion. He wanted more. He wanted to punish him again and again, to feel that same satisfying feeling, to unleash that pent up frustration at this BULLY who made his life HELL for so many months.
He struck again harder this time, to his body. Another a hay-maker, into the side of the face, to his eye, to his nose.
Jumping now, his knee went up, striking the adolescent monster, to the center of his visage. He ran at him, pushed him hard, tackled him to the ground, mounted the shocked boy and began his game of ground and pound, straight out of "A Christmas Story", Dick Ormsby the Scut Farkus of this particular situation.
Kyran Dean screamed into Richard's face.
"GET IT. DICKHEAD."
His skateboard, his gift from Kris Hartmann, crushed under Richard's fat troll foot. Split directly in half with one giant stomp.
Kyran could feel his fist curl, his blood boil, his eyebrows crease into furious anger.
Someone called out from the crowd that had grown around him. Willing him on.
That guy was right. His dad was right. He wasn't going to take this - bullshit - any longer.
Something happened, a fused had blown. A roar, was that a roar? He had no idea, everything moved in super speed, as rage poured out through every part of him.
His fist flew, connecting into Richard's soft belly, plunging into him, buckling his hated enemy in satisfying fashion. He wanted more. He wanted to punish him again and again, to feel that same satisfying feeling, to unleash that pent up frustration at this BULLY who made his life HELL for so many months.
He struck again harder this time, to his body. Another a hay-maker, into the side of the face, to his eye, to his nose.
Jumping now, his knee went up, striking the adolescent monster, to the center of his visage. He ran at him, pushed him hard, tackled him to the ground, mounted the shocked boy and began his game of ground and pound, straight out of "A Christmas Story", Dick Ormsby the Scut Farkus of this particular situation.
Kyran Dean screamed into Richard's face.
"GET IT. DICKHEAD."
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MurderWeasel
- Posts: 3442
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- Team Affiliation: Jewel's Leviathans
Richard got it. Oh, how he got it.
Dan and Tyler didn't do jack shit about Dean pounding on him. This was not a surprise. Richard wished it was. He wished that the older boys were the sort to intervene, that there was some greater loyalty between the three of them, but at the end of the day they were getting a show however this went, and that it was at Richard's expense would probably do nothing more than hurt his standing with them, maybe even in a lasting way. He tried to tell himself he'd've gone to bat for either of them. It probably wasn't true.
He'd messed up. He'd done so before, and he'd do so again, but this time it came as more of a surprise than usual. He was, indeed, so surprised that the pain didn't really land for a little while. He was too busy being completely shocked that Dean had grown a pair and had gone for him in such a serious way. He'd've expected, oh, a weak slap or a light punch or a wimpy little kick to the shins, but Dean was playing for keeps and his blitz was just too much. He had momentum, he had leverage, and he had the element of surprise. Richard could barely even muster the presence of mind to halfheartedly wave his hands about like he might block some of the assault. It wasn't very effective.
His eyes were tearing up from the hurt now seeping through the shock. He thought his nose was bleeding, and the inside of his cheek too, where his teeth had mashed against flesh. He could hear the shouting, could almost step outside himself into the circle of onlookers and put this into context as an oh so familiar scene. The bystanders, he thought, were probably all on Dean's side.
It hurt to admit, but if he'd lacked any personal stake in the issue, Richard probably would've been too.
Time passed, and the pain really did come into play, and Richard shook off his surprise enough to make some attempts at blocking and striking back, but not enough to find any success in these endeavors. How long exactly was Dean planning to keep this up? The guy flipped his lid like a volcano. Richard had screwed up. He should've seen it coming. Dean was obviously crazy. There was a pretty basic rule Richard had violated here: never, ever fight crazy. Crazy doesn't care if it gets clobbered. Crazy pops right back up and keeps swinging. Crazy either wins, or makes sure you lose just as much as it does.
For once, when the adults arrived and pulled the boys apart, Richard felt like he was the one being spared.
Dan and Tyler didn't do jack shit about Dean pounding on him. This was not a surprise. Richard wished it was. He wished that the older boys were the sort to intervene, that there was some greater loyalty between the three of them, but at the end of the day they were getting a show however this went, and that it was at Richard's expense would probably do nothing more than hurt his standing with them, maybe even in a lasting way. He tried to tell himself he'd've gone to bat for either of them. It probably wasn't true.
He'd messed up. He'd done so before, and he'd do so again, but this time it came as more of a surprise than usual. He was, indeed, so surprised that the pain didn't really land for a little while. He was too busy being completely shocked that Dean had grown a pair and had gone for him in such a serious way. He'd've expected, oh, a weak slap or a light punch or a wimpy little kick to the shins, but Dean was playing for keeps and his blitz was just too much. He had momentum, he had leverage, and he had the element of surprise. Richard could barely even muster the presence of mind to halfheartedly wave his hands about like he might block some of the assault. It wasn't very effective.
His eyes were tearing up from the hurt now seeping through the shock. He thought his nose was bleeding, and the inside of his cheek too, where his teeth had mashed against flesh. He could hear the shouting, could almost step outside himself into the circle of onlookers and put this into context as an oh so familiar scene. The bystanders, he thought, were probably all on Dean's side.
It hurt to admit, but if he'd lacked any personal stake in the issue, Richard probably would've been too.
Time passed, and the pain really did come into play, and Richard shook off his surprise enough to make some attempts at blocking and striking back, but not enough to find any success in these endeavors. How long exactly was Dean planning to keep this up? The guy flipped his lid like a volcano. Richard had screwed up. He should've seen it coming. Dean was obviously crazy. There was a pretty basic rule Richard had violated here: never, ever fight crazy. Crazy doesn't care if it gets clobbered. Crazy pops right back up and keeps swinging. Crazy either wins, or makes sure you lose just as much as it does.
For once, when the adults arrived and pulled the boys apart, Richard felt like he was the one being spared.
Head security Howie, pulled the two boys apart, with the help of one of the science teachers, by the name of Mr. D.
He was surprised to say the least. Not surprised to see the bigger kid, Richard Ormsby, involved. A usual suspect, in league with a few other of the more troublesome students. It was the fact that he seemed to be the victim. By the quiet little Dean, of all kids. It wasn't even Asher Dean or Elijah Dean, who he'd kind of see, maybe happening. It was Kyran Dean and for once, the boy wasn't even hurt. It was him, who had done the hurting.
"Get Ormsby, to the nurses room," Howie directed one of the rookie security guards who had came as back up. "Let the office know, call their parents."
The kids, were crowding, being a little wild, ecstatic at the event. Howie sighed. He had the youngest Dean, sit down on the bench once he saw the older Dean brother's face showed up in the wave of students in the area. It wasn't protocol, but he needed to break up this crowd a bit, have them disperse. He gave Eli Dean a look, a non-verbal message to keep an eye on his brother, while he played riot guard for a little while.
Kyran sat on the bench, quietly, eyes deadlocked in front of him, staring as Richard started to be escorted away. The two big lugs who had accompanied Richard earlier, scatter like roaches, trying to avoid any association with the situation.
For once it was nice that it wasn't him going to Ms. Au's office this time. Howie and Mr. D, were busy with the crowd.
His mom would be angry, but still Kyran was pleasantly content with what he was able to accomplish today. He wasn't pulled away before he could do anything. He had finally taught that jerk a lesson.
Everything was okay until Kyran looked at the skateboard again, saw the two pieces cracked and split in half. Then he was right back to being pissed. Richard had still managed to ruin his day somehow, but at least Kyran felt he had done enough to deter the dick from ever even thinking about pulling crap like that again. He hoped so, at least. Mom would ground him forever if he kept fighting.
Eli was making his way through the crowd to him and Kyran just wanted to walk away, not really in the right mindset to have his older brother bother him questions right now. He wanted to move, but he knew Howie wouldn't like that. So he sat, waited for the scene to clear.
Until an arm went to his shoulder, wrapping over his shoulder blade, patting, shaking him in a supportive way. Kyran looked up.
Who was this guy. It sure wasn't Eli.
He was surprised to say the least. Not surprised to see the bigger kid, Richard Ormsby, involved. A usual suspect, in league with a few other of the more troublesome students. It was the fact that he seemed to be the victim. By the quiet little Dean, of all kids. It wasn't even Asher Dean or Elijah Dean, who he'd kind of see, maybe happening. It was Kyran Dean and for once, the boy wasn't even hurt. It was him, who had done the hurting.
"Get Ormsby, to the nurses room," Howie directed one of the rookie security guards who had came as back up. "Let the office know, call their parents."
The kids, were crowding, being a little wild, ecstatic at the event. Howie sighed. He had the youngest Dean, sit down on the bench once he saw the older Dean brother's face showed up in the wave of students in the area. It wasn't protocol, but he needed to break up this crowd a bit, have them disperse. He gave Eli Dean a look, a non-verbal message to keep an eye on his brother, while he played riot guard for a little while.
Kyran sat on the bench, quietly, eyes deadlocked in front of him, staring as Richard started to be escorted away. The two big lugs who had accompanied Richard earlier, scatter like roaches, trying to avoid any association with the situation.
For once it was nice that it wasn't him going to Ms. Au's office this time. Howie and Mr. D, were busy with the crowd.
His mom would be angry, but still Kyran was pleasantly content with what he was able to accomplish today. He wasn't pulled away before he could do anything. He had finally taught that jerk a lesson.
Everything was okay until Kyran looked at the skateboard again, saw the two pieces cracked and split in half. Then he was right back to being pissed. Richard had still managed to ruin his day somehow, but at least Kyran felt he had done enough to deter the dick from ever even thinking about pulling crap like that again. He hoped so, at least. Mom would ground him forever if he kept fighting.
Eli was making his way through the crowd to him and Kyran just wanted to walk away, not really in the right mindset to have his older brother bother him questions right now. He wanted to move, but he knew Howie wouldn't like that. So he sat, waited for the scene to clear.
Until an arm went to his shoulder, wrapping over his shoulder blade, patting, shaking him in a supportive way. Kyran looked up.
Who was this guy. It sure wasn't Eli.
"Ayyy, that was funny as fuck, man!" Michael was impressed. Little guy just went ham on Dick. Fucker went all I wanna destroy something beautiful on his ass! "You had him all curled up and shit, I think he was crying! Goddamn you messed his ass up."
Michael looked at the little guy for a moment, and realized he had this thousand yard stare going on. Michael moved his gaze over to what he was looking at, and realized what it was about. Kid's board was fucked up. Damn...
"Oh, oh shit man, damn... Sorry about your board, like... Fuck, that shit's rough. Shit, I get why you destroyed his ass, damn man." He probably had a lot of problems to be honest. Hell, it could've been his first fight, and he was nervous about going home. Michael knew he was when it happened to him.
"Hey man, listen... Don't worry about what's gonna happen when you go home. Like, I know you might be like, scared to get in trouble, 'n shit, but like... It's not that bad. Just show them the skateboard and they'll understand, or if they don't... Fuck it. They'll only be mad at you for like a day."
Michael turned to look the dude in the eyes. "Trust me, what every they say, it'll be worth it. After this, there's no way in hell little Dicky is gonna fuck with you anymore. He's a little punk, a bitch. All it takes to deal with a shitbag like that is for them to get their wig split, and you fuckin' did it, man. You fucked his shit up, and he ain't ever gonna fuck with you again, unless he thinks his little fuckhead friends are gonna help them with it. Shit, if they do I got your back man. I'm with you."
There was one thing nagging him though. Michael forgot something.
"Ah, ah fuck! I forgot to ask you your name shit, man! Sorry about that, I'm fuckin' dumb as shit sometimes." Michael laughed, bringing his hand out for a handshake. "My name's Mike; what's yours?"
Michael looked at the little guy for a moment, and realized he had this thousand yard stare going on. Michael moved his gaze over to what he was looking at, and realized what it was about. Kid's board was fucked up. Damn...
"Oh, oh shit man, damn... Sorry about your board, like... Fuck, that shit's rough. Shit, I get why you destroyed his ass, damn man." He probably had a lot of problems to be honest. Hell, it could've been his first fight, and he was nervous about going home. Michael knew he was when it happened to him.
"Hey man, listen... Don't worry about what's gonna happen when you go home. Like, I know you might be like, scared to get in trouble, 'n shit, but like... It's not that bad. Just show them the skateboard and they'll understand, or if they don't... Fuck it. They'll only be mad at you for like a day."
Michael turned to look the dude in the eyes. "Trust me, what every they say, it'll be worth it. After this, there's no way in hell little Dicky is gonna fuck with you anymore. He's a little punk, a bitch. All it takes to deal with a shitbag like that is for them to get their wig split, and you fuckin' did it, man. You fucked his shit up, and he ain't ever gonna fuck with you again, unless he thinks his little fuckhead friends are gonna help them with it. Shit, if they do I got your back man. I'm with you."
There was one thing nagging him though. Michael forgot something.
"Ah, ah fuck! I forgot to ask you your name shit, man! Sorry about that, I'm fuckin' dumb as shit sometimes." Michael laughed, bringing his hand out for a handshake. "My name's Mike; what's yours?"
Catche thinks my squirrel is Fisk so here's my daily reminder that he is not.
"Kyran," he said softly, never being the best at talking with someone new. "Kyran Dean."
He raised his hand hesitantly, unsure what to expect from this guy, but at least he seemed friendly enough, despite having the dirtiest potty mouth he had heard from any kid his age.
What he said though, was comforting and he appreciated it. Even if Kyran liked being alone it was nice to know that someone had his back.
He raised his hand hesitantly, unsure what to expect from this guy, but at least he seemed friendly enough, despite having the dirtiest potty mouth he had heard from any kid his age.
What he said though, was comforting and he appreciated it. Even if Kyran liked being alone it was nice to know that someone had his back.
"Listen man, if anything ever happens, you just let me know. I got your back, you feel me?" Michael smiled as he shook Kyran's hand. "Just give the word, and I'll be there..."
"I mean it."
"I mean it."
Catche thinks my squirrel is Fisk so here's my daily reminder that he is not.
"Th-Thanks, Mike."
Kyran wasn't usually the sort, but this time he raised a corner lip into a one-sided smile.
Whoever this Mike guy is, Kyran decided he liked the dude. Kyran Dean was just this short little nothing, but he might as well return the favor, right. He'd try at least.
"Like-wise."
Kyran wasn't usually the sort, but this time he raised a corner lip into a one-sided smile.
Whoever this Mike guy is, Kyran decided he liked the dude. Kyran Dean was just this short little nothing, but he might as well return the favor, right. He'd try at least.
"Like-wise."