☲Heatwave☲

Mick RoryProfessional criminalNot-a-hero{Semi-Selective Independent Heatwave rp blog from CW's Flash/LoT}

[calorunda-blog]

snarkiisms:

“ What makes you think you won’t? A few pats on the back, the odd atta boy? Or is it the frankly insulting salary that keeps you going back for more? If it’s the getup, I really wouldn’t mind if you kept it. I always liked a man in uniform. ” He just kept prodding for weak points. It wasn’t so much that any one of them was supposed to be a knockout punch; rather, each more was just a drop of water in a bucket. One by one, plink by plink, until it finally overflowed. Because Len knew what it felt like to be unappreciated, to be trapped by some desire to fill a role. And he knew how defeating it was to never be able to do it. “ Besides, I may be the one in the box, but we’re both trapped. ”

Mick could play this game. Had played it for as long as he’d been old enough to understand there would always people who wanted more from him, and never be satisfied with what he could give. It’s what had sparked his cries for help as a child, and what had caused his father to toss him into the military at the first chance he’d gotten. The rigidity, and strict inflexibility of the military had given him the support he needed to control his urges, but what once had given him safety had, at some point, begun to chafe. That this man, the criminal behind bars, could see what so many others refused to, or didn’t care to, only pricked at that frustration in his chest, “Difference between you an’ me, is I still get to leave, an’ you never will. Or did you forget about the triple life sentence sitting on your head?”

[calorunda-blog]

snarkiisms:

Len heard the door open just in time to lose his grip on a couple dozen pounds of squirming, recently-bathed four-year-old. He was a little slower going, legs sore and damn near asleep from kneeling on the bathroom floor while he tried to bathe their daughter. He had a towel slung over his shoulder as he padded down the hall, wiping his hands dry. He’d managed to get her in pajamas and get most of her wet hair combed, which was an accomplishment. “ She picked the lock and escaped, ” he said with a tired, indulgent smile. And of course, he had to lean in to steal a quick kiss, then grimace at the state of his shirt and sweatpants. “ She was in a splashy mood tonight. ”

Mick pressed a sloppy kiss to the giggling toddler’s cheek, then shifted to return Len’s welcome home greeting, “I’ve told ya to wear a raincoat.” It might look ridiculous, but Mick always walked away from bath time dry as when he’d stepped inside. And he’d keep doing it until she was old enough not to need them to keep her from drowning. Shifting her to his lip, ignoring the wet hair sticking to his cheek, he half-listened to her babble into his ear as he reached out his other arm to pull Len closer by his wet waistband, “Missed you.”

[calorunda-blog]

snarkiisms:

Len’s crooked smile curled higher. “ That’s right. Keep telling yourself that, and maybe one day, you’ll actually believe it. ” Len knew a kindred spirit when he saw one. He’d never seen one before he saw the wildness in Mick’s eyes. They were opposites. Mick was all rough edges and barely concealed aggression; Len was honed and refined, and always playing the offensive in some way, shape, or form. Even if it was the long game. “ You’re not the idiot they say you are, Mick. You know a place like this can’t keep either of us locked away for long. And you play cold fish now, but I can tell you’re warming up to me. You’re going to miss me when I’m gone … unless you come with me. ”

“An’ what makes you think I’d ever come with you?” Why was he talking about this. Why was he even bothering. Mick knew better than to play into the criminal’s thought process. Had gone through years of training, and combat, to come this far in life, and if he’d had the occasional bout of aggressive behavior he’d been lauded for his efforts. To think he was anything like the man behind these bars was laughable, and yet--Mick still came back. Still listened to the venomous lies the man chose to spout, and still took those words back with him when he returned to the small matchbox of an apartment he lived in, despite being deemed a ‘hero’, time and time again. “From where I’m standin’, you got nothing but a lifetime stuck in an eight by ten box ahead of you.”

[calorunda-blog]

@snarkiisms

Mick has just come off of a three-day rotation at the fire house, managed to put out four fires, single-handedly, and wanted nothing more than to collapse in his bed and sleep for three days straight. So it only stood to reason, that the moment he walked through his front door he’d hear the loud shriek of ‘Papa!’ followed by the hurried pitter patter of toddler sized feet racing down the hall towards him. He had just enough time to drop to a knee in time to catch the young child around the waist and lift them into the air with a low chuckle, “Who let you out of your cage?”

[calorunda-blog]

snarkiisms:

“ Luck is a story men tell themselves when their plans go to shit, ” Len said, uncharacteristically coarse. Luck was the story Lewis told himself when things went south. But luck was hard to punish, so something else    someone else    usually had to do. “ But I’ll play ball. What about your luck, Lieutenant? Because you can stand there in that shiny uniform and talk about atoning for our sins, but if I really am a sinner, then I’d say I’m in good company. I know you. I see that look in your eye. I know that itch under your skin that you just can’t scratch. How long do you think it’ll be before your luck runs out. Face it, Mick. The only difference between you and me is one bad day and a felony conviction. ”

Mick’s lips twisted into a feral grin as his hands came up to press against the bars between them, “The difference between us, is I’m nothing like you.” Mick was better than the man in the cage. He had to believe that. Had to believe that everything he’d done for the last twenty years, everything he’d worked for in his life meant something. Or he really was no better then the convict he’d helped put behind bars. “And you’re going to spend the rest of your life, no matter how short behind bars, an’ I get to walk out those doors an’ never come back.”

[calorunda-blog]

snarkiisms:

“ Oooh, convict. That’s an interesting word, when you think about it. I was convicted, so now I’m a convict. Or is it that I have conviction? ” His fingers drummed the bars idly. Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap. “ Strange how a man without conviction isn’t much of a man at all, but a man with a conviction is somehow less than human. Is that what I am to you, Mick? Less than human? The freak in the cage. ” He leaned in, smiling with too many teeth. “ Let’s get one thing straight: I’m alive because nobody’s managed to kill me yet. And just between you and me, I don’t like your guards’ chances if they try to end my streak. ”

Mick wouldn’t falter. He wouldn’t bend to this man’s will. Mick had stood, steadfast and unflappable, against countless threats throughout the years, had earned the stripes on his jacket, so what was it about this one particular man that seemed to itch under his skin. “Seems to me, you can have as much conviction as you want, but sooner, or later, everyone’s luck runs out.”

[calorunda-blog]

snarkiisms:

    “ I haven’t decided yet. But when I do, you’ll be the first to know. ” He’d play along, talk about names and nothing while they danced around the real landmine. The waiting was half the fun    a little bit of build-up to the great crescendo. “ And it’s not my fault the guards can’t keep cool heads. You say one little thing and they get all bent out of shape. ” Len has the bruises to prove it, and the satisfaction of another weak point uncovered. “ Your concern is touching, though. Makes me feel all warm and terry-cloth fuzzy inside. ”

“Concern ain’t got nothin’ to do with it, convict. You’re in here to atone for your sins. Nothin’ more, nothin’ less, and I’m here to make sure that you stay that way.” For that matter, Mick shouldn’t even be there. The man behind the bars was clever enough to understand that, but as much as Mick knew he should stay away, he couldn’t. Coming back, day after day, to the same bright eyes, and wicked grin, and the fire burning in his belly, “You let yourself get roughed up by the guards, all you want, just remember you’re only still alive because we will it.”

[calorunda-blog]

snarkiisms:

@calorunda

       A smile curls on his lips when he hears a familiar set of heavy footfalls coming down the hall of the prison. “ Still haven’t gotten a grasp of visiting hours, have we, Lieutenant? Twice in a one week. Am I that special, or are you that lonely? ” 

       He rises from the bench, a languid and unhurried movement, like he’s rising to greet a house guest and not a straight-jawed uniform standing outside his cell. “ You should be careful, Mick. The warden’s spidey senses are getting all sorts of    ” he feigns a shiver “     tingly. I’d hate for him to get the wrong idea, freeze you out. ”

“What is it, with you? Lieutenant, or Mick. Pick one and stick with it.” Better dispute the honorific use of his name, than the real reason he was there. The aching bite under his skin that had him returning twice in one week, when he really should’ve left the moment they’d tossed him behind a set of bars. “If you were really worried about the warden, you’d stop irritating your guards.”

[yovnggod]

Coldwave Week: Day 4 (Alternate Earths) 

[calorunda-blog]

meurtriier:

@calorunda​ from ☙

 “ okay, follow-up question. what’s the most theatrical way to set a car on fire? asking for a friend. ”         a pause.  “ me. i’m the friend. ”

“Okay, friend. You want destruction, you’ll want to ignite the interior with any type of accelerant you’ve got, burn the car up in minutes, and leave only a husk behind. You want a big band? Toss a molotov on that baby and watch her burn, but make sure you hit a window, or there’s no guarantee the fire will spread through the interior.”

[calorunda-blog]

Command

Truth or Dare || acceptingSend me ‘Command’ and my character will command yours to do something.

“We don’t got time for you to argue, Len. Now go!” How many times had Len done the same thing to him, played the ‘hero’ in their little excursions out into the world, and beyond. But not this time. This time he was going to save Len. Save him like all the times Len had saved his hide beforehand. He aimed his heatgun at the approaching mobsters who didn’t like to take ‘no’ for an answer, and shouted one last time, “Go!”

[calorunda-blog]

“I’m fine at parties. I just stand in the middle of the room and don’t say anything.”

B-99 Starters || accepting

“You’re one step ahead of me, kid.” Mick went more for the avoid-parties-at-all-costs approach, or his second favorite: simply steal everything he can get his hands on while they’re distracted.

[calorunda-blog]

snarkiisms:

“And we wouldn’t want that, would we?” As if they weren’t both painfully aware of just how much Mick meant to him. Never mind the bi-hourly checks; if he didn’t think he would disturb Mick’s sleep, Len wouldn’t leave the room. “I tried to find the kiddie stuff, but alas.” 

He managed to get the glass on the table before Mick dragged him down, and he rolled his eyes at the question. “A black eye isn’t a concussion, Mick. I don’t need to take anything. And you shouldn’t be worrying about me.” He leaned down to press a chaste kiss above Mick’s temple. “It’s my turn to do the worrying. Now, you want to go back to sleep? Or you want some company for a while?” 

“Chewables, next time Len. Cherry kind.” The second Len was lying down with him, he wrapped his arms around his waist and let his eyes fall closed. “You always do the worryin’, time I get a chance.” To be fair, Mick was usually the one getting hurt, he was the brawler, the muscle, and he would do whatever it took to keep Len from getting hurt in the process. This time he’d took an extra whack to the head, nothing he hadn’t handled before, but Len worried about his ‘mental health’. Whatever was left of it, at least. “Always lookin’ for your company, so long as you’re willing to entertain me.”

[calorunda-blog]

“What’s the safest way to set a car on fire?”

B-99 Starters || accepting

“No such thing.” In Mick’s world, if you were going to set a car on fire, it was for a distraction, or enjoyment, and either way things were going to go boom.

[calorunda-blog]

snarkiisms:

Len settled the rest of the way onto the bed, sitting the glass on the bedside table and pulling the painkillers from his pocket. “Those are stupid questions,” he said. And unnecessary. He could look in Mick’s eyes and know when he was confused or disjointed. He knew when to be seriously concerned, and when to just be his baseline level of concerned. 

He shook out a couple of pills and smoothed a hand over Mick’s head, careful to avoid the lump on his temple. “Sit up a little to take these. I don’t think your ribs would appreciate the heimlich.” 

“Careful, Lenny, or you’re gonna make me think you give a shit.” But Mick is chuckling, lifting himself up carefully on an elbow so he can take the pills and toss them into his mouth, following it with a grimace and sip of water. “That shit never gets easier to take.”

He lowered himself down onto the bed again, but grabbed at one of Len’s hands to pull him closer as he did. “You take anything for that shiner of yours yet?” Because it would be just like Len to forget about his own pain, if it meant distracting himself with Mick’s.

[calorunda-blog]

snarkiisms:

@calorunda

He shook Mick’s shoulder much gentler than he knew he needed to, one knee on the bed and one hand clutching a glass of water. There was a corresponding bottle of aspirin in his pocket. 

“Time to wake up, Mick. This is your complimentary concussion check.” 

So they hadn’t walked away from the last job completely unharmed. But they walked away, and sometimes, that was the best they could hope for. 

It just so happens, the bruised and battered man had been awake from the moment Len entered the room, but his eyes remained closed as his lips quirked in a small smile.

“Aren’t you supposed to ask me ‘bout the President, an’ my name?”

He cracked an eye open to see Len leaning over him with a glass of water, and hopefully some medication to help with the pain in his temple.

[acidtoned]

brooklyn nine-nine inspired sentence meme

“I kinda wish something could happen, between us, romantic styles.”

“You can’t handle the me!”

“Forget your ex, have meaningless sex. It rhymes because it’s true.”

“The English language cannot fully capture the depth and complexity of my thoughts, so I’m incorporating Emoji into my speech to better express myself. Winky-face.”

“Yay, enemies for life!”

“It’s the most fun day of the year, something you wouldn’t understand because you’re not programmed to feel joy.”

“Almost makes me wanna take things seriously all the time, but then I’m like, ‘boobs, farts, boobs, whatever.’”

“He is a sea-witch in disguise, do not sing into his shell!”

“I cannot believe that I’m considering a non-violent option.”

“I’m gonna punch him so hard in the mouth that he bites his own heart.”

“Blink twice if you’d like me to mercy kill you.”

“I feel like I’m the Paris of people.”

“My mother cried when I was born because she knew that she’d never be better than me.”

“I am flummoxed! That’s a word I learned for this party, and I am it!”

“No staring at your phone, no rolling in two hours late, no sweatpants, no jeans, no shorts.”

“I’m fine at parties. I just stand in the middle of the room and don’t say anything.”

“The greatest thing that could ever happen has just happened.”

“Chop-chop. There’s plenty of embarrassing to do and only a few hours to do it in.”

“What’s the safest way to set a car on fire?”

“Space is scary! You saw what it did to Sandy Bullock!”

“Fear is a powerful aphrodisiac.”

“Ugh, she never smiles. Is her mouth broken!?”

“Hey, you like spaghetti? And weed?”

“I mean, why would a death threat be a big deal? Oh, that’s right, ‘cause it threatens death!”

“That’s right! Just kicked Santa in the testicles.”

“Guaranteed train-wreck. Thanks for the invite.”

“Can we please eat?! My body is starting to digest itself.”

“Yeah, but that was before I knew I could get up on this high horse. Love the view up here. Clip clop!”

“Turn your greatest weakness into your greatest strength. Like Paris Hilton re: her sex tape.”

“Don’t give candy to a baby! They can’t brush their teeth!”

“The inside of your cheeks are very sensitive. It’s like the inside of your thighs, but with tongue.”

“But seriously, what’s your favourite Jay-Z song?”

“Shhhhh…turn off your mouth siren…”

“You look like a corpse we just pulled out of the river.”