Lieutenant Calvert

ᓚᘏᗢ

"Yes need to resort to threats. Following swears, they make up most of my vocabulary," Norrie countered. Without threats, insults, and swears, she'd have literally nothing to say, and that was BORING. Being mean as shit WASN'T, she she'd opt for that. Besides, she didn't WHINE, thanks.

"You're one to talk," She snorted. But sure. She didn't exactly have friends in school, she had more or less weak little gremlins that followed her around but made for excellent scapegoats. They annoyed the shit outta her most of the time, but at least they kept her from looking like 'the weird kid'. Maybe the were good for something, and not just blaming shit on them.

"Good for you. Maybe you're just banking on the idea I hit like a girl," Norrie said flatly. That was the DUMBEST belief EVER, even more so than the flat earth theory. And they believed the earth was a fucking DISK hurtling through space. God made it and threw it like a frisbee, and Dog will one day catch it. God, creator of worlds, and Dog, destroyer of worlds.

"So, uhh, here's the thing, I'm technically not supposed to do this, but.. you ain't gonna tell, right?" She said, leading him toward what she'd always thought of as apartments on the bad side of town. AKA the delightful place she got to live in and was now, by definition of the word, smuggling Axl into. Mainly because The Pound was shit. Partly because probably nobody would want to sit and babysit him there. She yoinked a key from behind the empty desk of the sad excuse for a lobby and started upstairs. She stopped at the door marked with the same number as on the key, handed it to Axl, and said, "Here's your suite, madam." Her own room was a few doors down on the opposite side of the hall, which worked out conveniently.

"Maybe that's a sign from the heavens that YOU should shut your pie hole every once in a while." Axl suggested. If ya ain't got nothin' good to say, don't say it. Obviously, he didn't follow this rule, but he was gonna be a hypocrite and make her. Or say she should. He couldn't make her do Jack shart. He never really had any helpful advice- serious helpful advice, anyway. He'd make a greaaaaat therapist. Feeling depressed? Jump offa bridge! You won't feel much of anything then! Problems in your marriage? Kill 'em! No more marriage to have problems with! Low self esteem? There's a reason! You're ugly as hell and have a terrible personality! Yeah, that would end badly.

"Don't kill the messenger." He said sarcastically, shaking his head. Sure, his existence was like the tundra, barren of everything, cold, useless, and horrid, but he could still speak.

At her next words, he almost smirked, but resorted to a snort instead. "No, believe me. I'm not stupid enough to think you hit like a girl. I've experienced otherwise. I'm banking on the air of if I can get stabbed and be fine ish being punched with be a walk in the park." Fine ish was a little bit of an... overstatement. Usually it was more like oh no here we go again then unhappy agony that slowly faded over time, then got way worse as it got infected, then faded again.

He stalked behind her as silently as ever, slightly off to the side but out of her peripherals, as was practically programmed in his mind. Stay out of the way, don't be seen. Easy enough. It didn't matter that it didn't really work here, or he didn't have to do it- some things were hard to get rid of, and since it helped him in fighting, he'd keep it. His ear twitched as she spoke, gaze flitting to the concrete building, untouched by the days show. "I'm sure telling anyone would result in my own discomfort, so no." Call it selfishness, but if it was going to benefit him, he'd do it, and if it was going to hurt him, he wouldn't. Simple as that. The stairs creaked slightly like a flippin' haunted house, annoying the heck out of him- he hated creaky stairs. A LOT. It made it IMPOSSIBLE to sneak up on anyone, no matter how quiet you were. His nose twitched in irritation as he sniffed the air, taking in his surroundings with all the senses he could. He was hardwired, in a human sense, not a robotic sense, to always scan and assess new surroundings for threats and access points, and it was no different here. As they reached the door, he glanced at it for a short moment before taking the key. "Much obliged, m'lady." His words were dry as the Saharan desert, per usual.

Lieutenant Calvert

ᓚᘏᗢ

"I refuse. YOU have the right to remain silent. I have the right to freedom of speech," Norrie retorted. Hmm, did the constitution apply to him? She thought probably not. Or maybe it'd technically apply to part of him. Hard to say. Either way, freedom of speech, sucker. Deal with it, go kick rocks. (I cackled at that oddly cheerful 'you're ugly as hell!' xD)

"I'll kill whoever I want," She said. As long as they weren't some important figure. Then she'd just WANT to kill them but not be able to. Pity.

"That's a relief, he's not as dumb as he looks." Eh, Axl admittedly didn't look any dumber than Jackson, so that was something at least. One could easily look dumber than Jackson, so if you DIDN'T you were of at least average intelligence. Or maybe slightly below average.

"Probably. And my getting in trouble, not that that's any incentive for you to keep quiet," Norrie snorted. Welll, if she DID get in trouble, then Axl may just end up with Jackson, so yeah, that was still some form of reason. Regardless, Norrie didn't think it to be all that selfish, he'd be a goody two-shoes otherwise. Then again she could be a selfish bastard sometimes, so who knows.

"Don't sound so thrilled," She said dryly. "And don't cause too much trouble. I'll come get you at, ohh shit I dunno, just think of an early time and call it good, kay?" Yeah, no, she was too lazy at the moment to pick an actual time. 'Early' would suffice. Not 'stupidly early' but not 'early for someone who stay up until dawn every night' either. With that, she mumbled something that could pass for g'night and made her way to her own room, putting herself to bed without dilly-dallying.

"Last time I checked you aren't arresting me, so don't pull that right to remain silent stuff on me. I am, like, 70 percent physically human and 90 percent mentally human, so shush." Axl huffed. People really did underestimate how human hybrids really were. Sure, he looked like a LITTLE weird, but his mind - not the cyborg part - was at least 90 percent human. Likely more like... 97 percent. The animal instincts and thirst for blood kind of made it impossible to say 100 percent. (He'd make a great therapist, I'm sayin' xD)

"Wellllll, killing me wouldn't get you a promotion, that's for certain. Likely it'd get you in prison." He flashed a smile. "I hope it would be a strict, cruel prison with a lot of people JUST like you so you can live the life everyone else lives while being around you, and you can rethink insulting me about things like being in a cage or on my knees." He drawled with the smallest hint of a joking tone hiding somewhere. And, per usual, the little mischevious twinkle in his black eyes.

"Ay, I never ASKED to look like a horned chicken with claws, gimme a break." He feigned offense. "It's what's on the INSIDE that COUNTS." Saying that made him have to grin a little- he had always hated that phrase. Most quotes like that he hated. Like listen to your heart. It's a flippin' organ, it CANNOT SPEAK. But he was USING this quote ANYWAY.

"It is incentive, considering if YOU get in trouble I sleep on a concrete floor. Behind bars." He wrinkled his nose. "Considering anything happening to you would result in my death/more torture, I will do my best to keep you healthy and alive." If there was another flippin' bomb, he'd do the same thing he did before, completely because he needed her alive. "Oh sh-" Something flew to his mind and made him wince. Okay, it was probably a good thing he remembered that. He fell silent for a moment, deciding just to deal with it when he was alone.

"No one will know I'm here, and I'll be awake." If he didn't sleep, he couldn't not be awake. He disappeared with a nod as she walked away, closing the door behind him and surveying the small room. The first thing he needed to do... he searched for the bathroom for about half a second, turned on the light, and swiveled around. Sure enough, he could see at least two slashes on his back with a glint of metal portruding from one. Turning the other way revealed three more. "How the hell did I not notice these?" He muttered to himself, searching under the sink for a moment before going out and thinking for a moment. Axl then gave up and went back to the bathroom, twisting his arm around. He felt a twinge of pain, but ignored it. Apparently his body was good at numbing out pain now. He managed to grip the first piece of metal with his fingers, and unceremoniously jerk it out. He let out an involuntary yelp as it tore through more skin and the blood that had clotted quickly spewed out again, trickling down his back. Tossing the piece of shrapnel in the sink, he moved to the second, gritting his teeth to keep from making noise.

Quickly he realized there was no position in which he could reach the other three. Although he really didn't want to sleep with them, he probably didn't have to worry about it if he didn't sleep. With a sigh, he took some paper towels and soaked up the blood, then put a towel down over a chair before sitting down with a wince. He was in for a long night.

Lieutenant Calvert

ᓚᘏᗢ

"And a hundred percent annoying asshole," Norrie added. Him and his fancy numbers. BAH-humbug! The slaves were totally completely one hundred percent human and yet they still got stuck working like dogs. So there. (Not the therapist we need, or the one we want, but the therapist we deserve xD)

"Rethink? I don't rethink ANYTHING. Certainly not insulting someone," She retorted. There was very rarely any rethinking going on. Only ACTUAL thinking. Why think and ponder over something that's already happened? THINK and PONDER of things YET to happen. You'd be stupid otherwise. Then again MOST people were dumber than a sack of hammers.

"Don't you mean.. gimme a beak?" She snickered. Amazing chicken joke. "Bones, blood, connective tissue, and a heart two sizes too small." It reminded Norrie of something she'd heard somewhere: My body's a haunted house. Inside, there's a ghost, a skeleton, and blood and shit allll over the walls. Yup. Whoever said it was probably high as a kite.

"Oh gee thanks. How thoughtful," She said flatly. Still, at least there was some attempt to prevent death. Better than could be said for most people she knew. They would probably be more like 'oops, my bad. What a shame. Anyways. The weather's been pretty nice lately, huh?' Lovely people. Well, in the case of Jackson, he'd probably kill Norrie accidentally while trying to be helpful. She watched him curiously for a moment, decided he prooobably wasn't actively dying, and chose not to press him. Even if she DID he'd probably just play it off, anyway.

"Okay then," Norrie said with a shrug. He didn't exactly seem like he needed - or enjoyed - sleep anyway.

When she couldn't fall asleep, she set to work doing what she always did- meticulously cleaning her swiss-cheese-inator. Did this mean that that thing was usually cleaner than a hospital? Sure. Was it a bad thing? Not really.

(lil short sorry >.<)

"I would agree with that." Axl nodded slowly. "Quite accurate." He was annoying, and he wasn't gonna deny it. He didn't really have a high opinion of himself- except for his looks, because wow, he totally looked like a model with wings and horns and fangs, so no one had to worry about him retorting to someone calling him annoying. Or irritating. Or infuriating, or impossible, or horrid. (Yesss xD)

"Fine, think about what you do in the future." He rolled his eyes. "Doesn't change the outcome. you kill me, you get consequences." He'd prefer it not work like that, but hey, whatever worked. He guessed. Axl wrinkled his nose, sighing in mock annoyance at her words and trying not to snort in amusement. "Suuuuure. Totally what I meant." It was.. a decent pun. So... at least he hadn't heard THAT one before. "You make me sound like the Grinch." He gave an offended look. "although, they had a heart 3 sizes too small, and you said mine is only 2 sizes too small... so thanks for the compliment." He flashed a smile, fangs glinting. It was true, to any outwardly person, so he wasn't going to protest. He didn't care about most people and didn't really know what the word sympathy meant. Axl knew for certain that he could really never reveal his true self, because he'd be torn apart in seconds. After spending so much time fabricating this not disturbed by anything tough guy facade, he wasn't throwing it away. If he did ever get away and disappear into the mountains, though, he was feeding the birds by hand and talking to the animals.

"it is thoughtful. You're lucky to have a killing machine that has a reason to make sure you don't die in a horrible gruesome way." He scoffed. Especially one as entertaining as him, thank you very much.

Axl sat in the chair and stared at the wall for a solid hour before standing and creeping around, observing the tiny place. A small bedroom, bathroom, and a main room ish thing with a chair and a rug. Spiffy. He wandered into the bedroom restlessly, wrinkling his nose at the pristine sheets, reminding himself that blood and grease both stained, and exiting again. He wasn't here to completely destroy everything, although he would've liked to. Instead, his hours were spent silently pacing back and forth. Sometime in the night he felt his wounds open back up, but he ignored it.

In the early hours of the morning, the sun just peeking in his window, he was still pacing. His muscles ached and he felt rather dreary, but he couldn't sleep and he wasn't going to try. Axl raked a hand through his black hair, which had grown longer recently- someone had shaved it all off, to his dismay, a year ago, and now it was curling down his neck and almost falling over his eyes. Quite annoying, it you asked him. Unkempt. Made it hard to see. Plus it tickled his ears and irritated him more. He wiped some grease offa his arm and frowned slightly - maybe he should've washed the blood offa his chest. But ney, that could come later. He was surprised he hadn't worn a track in the floor or set his boots on fire, honestly.

Lieutenant Calvert

ᓚᘏᗢ

"'Course I'm right," Norrie said smugly. When was she NOT right? Never! That's when. Well, almost never. As little as she'd admit it, there was a time way back in grammar school when she'd gotten a single answer on a test wrong. Such a sad day.

"I dunno, could be worth it," She said with a shrug. It just depended on how annoying he'd been being. If he wasn't, it was a waste. If he WAS, well, hell yeah. Maybe. He'd have to be REALLY annoying and then CONTINUE to be so after dying to make it worth it. Hmm, maybe it'd only be a good idea at first.

"Nope, that's false," Norrie said, and to prove it, pulled out her phone and looked up how small was the grinches heart in the beginning of the movie? "In the movie "How the Grinch Stole Christmas," the Grinch's heart was described as being "two sizes too small" at the beginning of the story. As the story progresses, his heart grows three sizes when he experiences the true spirit of Christmas," She recited smugly. "So there. Not a compliment." Of course she just had to be right. Especially if that bastard was gonna try to make that out to be a compliment.

"Oh yeah I'm so lucky," She lilted, rolling her eyes. If he was ACTAULLY entertaining that'd be one thing, but he was more like a really bad comedian whose parents always put on a smile and said, no, you're great, sweetie. Kinda like how you're not getting more handsome every time you visit grandma, her eyesight is just getting worse.

"Don't look so smug. Anyone could've told me I was annoying." Axl snorted. Even Jackson could see that, so she shouldn't be too proud. "Alright. You weigh the pros and cons and come back with an answer." He commented drily. He was 97 percent sure she wouldn't try and kill him, so he felt relatively safe in that way. Physical abuse, however, was OBVIOUSLY not off the table. As soon as she said it was wrong, he mentally searched it up, cursing under his breath. "Flippin' fiddlesticks. Well FINE THEN." He huffed, rolling his eyes. "I guess I'll just be a grouchy green guy." With a heart TWO sizes to small. His MISTAKE. He managed to mess up the growth and how small it was to begin with. "I'm not going to try to convince you that you are, I'll just bask in being right." He smirked. Without him, she would've already been dead. He restrained from pointing that out, but it was STILL THERE. She would be 6 feet deep some earth somewhere, decomposing, with a bunch of shrapnel in her flesh. He managed to still get 5 pieces, but none of them hit his spine, so he was doing better than she would've been.

As he paced, he tugged on his bangs, grumbling under his breath. He was hungry, but that didn't matter. He was tired, but when had that ever changed anything. It was around 8 now, and Norrie still hadn't come, and he was starting to think about flying out then window just to see if he could make it without getting shot down. He was decently bored, but THAT had never mattered either. Sighing, he continued going from one corner of the room to the other, occasionally brushing the wall with his fingers.

"I'll look smug if I feel like it," Norrie said. Still, it was true that any old brain-dead disconnected telephone could tell he was annoying. Whatever.

"Hmm, I think they're about equal. So for now it's not worth it. Check back in later," She retorted. She wouldn't try to kill him, no, but nowhere did it say she wasn't allowed to injure him- either physically or mentally. So she'd probably do both. Or maybe alternate between the two. Hmm, sounded like a GREAT plan.

Norrie grinned a smug shit-eating grin and said, "Grouchy, sure, green? I'm not seeing it. Unless maybe I'm colorblind." Really doctor? Colorblind? Well, that diagnosis came outta the purple.

"You have fun with that. It's best to enjoy once-in-a-lifetime things when they come around, after all," She said. Well, maybe like twice in a lifetime, three times tops. Still.

Norrie got dressed, not bothering to check the time. It was MORNING. That was the important thing. The swiss-cheese-inator obviously came too; even if she didn't need it, she liked the familiar weight of it. She snagged some energy drink that tasted like battery acid from the minifridge and went to Axl's room, knocking on the door with her boot. AKA kicking it aggressively.

-

(Sooo... maybe these goobers get assigned to go take down the big bad terrorists and thus embark on an epic quest, uh, somewhere? Also maybe they have to take Jackson too per the general's orders. [actually for comic relief and a target for insults but he may be useful later I dunno])

(Sounds good, and GERMANY. THE TERRORISTS ARE GERMAN. Yes, let's have them take Jackson hehehe)

-

"You feel like doing a helluva Lotta stuff." Axl snorted drily. She practically did whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted, with no repercussions. She was probably not the best person to be in the military. Too much access. "I will." He actually really didn't care. She would likely hurt him if she didn't kill him, so why do anything and why care. Pain was a norm for him these days, and he honestly didn't care. For example, how he completely forgot about the shrapnel in his back and climbed a tree and all that stuff without noticing. And, on the other fingers, he couldn't be damaged mentally- he was already so scarred THERE that nothing could make it worse. It was an open chasm of depression and hate. Throw more into the chasm and it'll just disappear. "Intelligent, sure, sarcastic? I'm not seeing it." He replied with a heavily sarcastic tone. "I'm less grouchy than YOU most of the time, miss." He rolled his eyes. Well, he tried to be, but goodness was he failing.

"I will, thank you very much." He was right, like, 18 percent of the time, and he DID appreciate when it happened.

Axl rubbed the back of his neck, feeling dried crusty blood there as well, and the familiar bumpy burn marks. His hand subconsciously moved over his shoulder, the scarred skin feeling dry under his fingers. He lifted his hand at his wrist, pausing his pacing and letting out another sigh, staring at the ceiling. Not moving, the aches and pains returned in full force... it was easier to feel his broken ribs at the moment, and everything just hurt in general. He closed his eyes and let his arms hang limply for a moment before gathering himself up as he heard footsteps. The scent confirmed it was Norrie, and he was about to open the door when something crashed against it. "You don't have to kick down the door, Iron Man." He scoffed as he opened it, shoulders tense as normal. "What's the schedule for today? Terrorists at 10, lunch, a small shootout, some paint ball, grenade launching practice, and some supper?" He asked sarcastically, as his tone usually was.