Log: Artie & Matt
Jun. 13th, 2011 03:04 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
x-daredevil.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
xp_logsMatt did not have a record of assault and battery because he never got angry or in fights.
With Artie's journal post, Mat had had enough. He didn't care if Artie was upset, he didn't want to hear anymore. Getting up from his computer, he left his room and headed across the living area to Artie's room, not bothering to knock on the door. "Hey, buttmunch," he said, then launched himself at his roommate. He needed a nice beatdown right now. And Matt was more than happy to give it to him.
Artie had been in his desk chair and landed hard under Matt's weight. He slammed his head up, cracking his forehead into Matt's face and gave him a two fingered jab to the neck with his free hand. He'd be able to run if Matt pulled away and get enough space that his height wasn't a huge advantage because, what the hell? Who attacked their roommates out of the blue?
Clearly, Matt did. He was pissed over what had happened, not just in the sewers, but the whole ghost thing too. And yeah, the ghost thing wasn't THAT bad and Artie had nothing to do with it directly, but it was weird and uncomfortable and he did not like that. And then this. Reeling backwards when Artie's head hit his, Matt ignored the flashes of pain and punched him, wailing on his face with his fist until he could feel blood. He wasn't the son of Batlin' Jack Murdock for nothing.
Artie was reeling under the punches but managed to pull a knee up, getting Matt in the balls. He scrambled away, climbing to his feet and kicked him, twice, in the stomach as hard as he could before turning and running.
Howling at a knee to the groin, Matt rolled off his roommate, clutching himself as the gut-wrenching pain subsided. Rolling to his knees, he went after him, still able to hear Artie. "I ain't done with you, fucker!" Matt shouted, cane clutched in his hand and he ran, not bothering to stop if he hit something. When he decided that Artie wasn't too far away from him, he leaped, tackling Artie around the waist and using his cane to hit him. It wasn't a baseball bat, but it would do. And really...he didn't want to hurt Artie THAT badly.
Artie managed another kick, one he'd been drilled in in self defense before Matt began hitting him with the cane. He couldn't run right now, couldn't hide. All he could do was roll back under the table and curl up to protect himself from the blows. He wished he had a knife or something useful in the way of powers. Then he'd be able to stop Matt.
When Artie rolled under the table, Matt stood there, breathing heavy and clutching his cane in one hand like a staff. His hair was a mess, glasses missing and shirt akimbo. "You're pathetic," he stated, "All mouth, no trousers. You leave Molly alone. You hear me?" Artie had no call going on at her like he did. He shouldn't have on the others either, but at least they were older.
Artie shrugged one shoulder and gasped for breath, not even bothering to try to reply. His nose was bleeding, as was his lip and there was a cut on his forehead.His ribs were nothing but pain. Next time? He'd make sure he didn't get beaten up, that they didn't all die. He'd have a knife or something, next time, because hell, he knew he was tiny.
With Artie's journal post, Mat had had enough. He didn't care if Artie was upset, he didn't want to hear anymore. Getting up from his computer, he left his room and headed across the living area to Artie's room, not bothering to knock on the door. "Hey, buttmunch," he said, then launched himself at his roommate. He needed a nice beatdown right now. And Matt was more than happy to give it to him.
Artie had been in his desk chair and landed hard under Matt's weight. He slammed his head up, cracking his forehead into Matt's face and gave him a two fingered jab to the neck with his free hand. He'd be able to run if Matt pulled away and get enough space that his height wasn't a huge advantage because, what the hell? Who attacked their roommates out of the blue?
Clearly, Matt did. He was pissed over what had happened, not just in the sewers, but the whole ghost thing too. And yeah, the ghost thing wasn't THAT bad and Artie had nothing to do with it directly, but it was weird and uncomfortable and he did not like that. And then this. Reeling backwards when Artie's head hit his, Matt ignored the flashes of pain and punched him, wailing on his face with his fist until he could feel blood. He wasn't the son of Batlin' Jack Murdock for nothing.
Artie was reeling under the punches but managed to pull a knee up, getting Matt in the balls. He scrambled away, climbing to his feet and kicked him, twice, in the stomach as hard as he could before turning and running.
Howling at a knee to the groin, Matt rolled off his roommate, clutching himself as the gut-wrenching pain subsided. Rolling to his knees, he went after him, still able to hear Artie. "I ain't done with you, fucker!" Matt shouted, cane clutched in his hand and he ran, not bothering to stop if he hit something. When he decided that Artie wasn't too far away from him, he leaped, tackling Artie around the waist and using his cane to hit him. It wasn't a baseball bat, but it would do. And really...he didn't want to hurt Artie THAT badly.
Artie managed another kick, one he'd been drilled in in self defense before Matt began hitting him with the cane. He couldn't run right now, couldn't hide. All he could do was roll back under the table and curl up to protect himself from the blows. He wished he had a knife or something useful in the way of powers. Then he'd be able to stop Matt.
When Artie rolled under the table, Matt stood there, breathing heavy and clutching his cane in one hand like a staff. His hair was a mess, glasses missing and shirt akimbo. "You're pathetic," he stated, "All mouth, no trousers. You leave Molly alone. You hear me?" Artie had no call going on at her like he did. He shouldn't have on the others either, but at least they were older.
Artie shrugged one shoulder and gasped for breath, not even bothering to try to reply. His nose was bleeding, as was his lip and there was a cut on his forehead.His ribs were nothing but pain. Next time? He'd make sure he didn't get beaten up, that they didn't all die. He'd have a knife or something, next time, because hell, he knew he was tiny.
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