OLD ATST Seto/Joey

You'll Be At My Show ~9 Joey [2015 8/8/15]

Blackness unerring bottomless blackness, the comfort of red eyes watching him protectively.

Till then Joey was thrown  back and  released from the abyss. From those red eye's watch. 

He pushed his lashes to flicker, blinking slowly was like wading through cold molasses.

What had roused him?

Let me go back joey wanted to plead.

Return me to the dark!

Where it's quiet peaceful none of this ruckus.

Joey came to realize he was not so easily let slip a the white noise relentlessly rushed upon him in waves of inundating static.

He wondered who had hit the cable box on the tv this time, he could see the black and white line digging about his head.

Now, slowly he became aware to a self-assured voice steadily giving an order.

Not just any voice.

Not just any command.

Clarity crested the gap between his thought process, like the sun rising  in the morning and awareness dawned.

Painfully,  he was up and moving, his theory being if you were going to hurt anyway why not be making them hurt with you.

Joey propelled himself upwards by no means an easy feat.

He began stripping off the hand ties with a violent rip by sheer force of will.

For the most part he was fighting blind, going by the thuds and grunts.

Don't try this at home kids leave it to the professionals.

Because kiddie's, an object once in motion stays in motion.

Simple middle school physical science theory.

He need only be listening for the whistle and feel the stirring of the air that predated their passing.

Joey heaved out a breath. Now was not the time for him to be short on air and his body suddenly chose to remember it too could take in oxygen.

The pain deadened him, one hit, two hit three hit better than counting any old smelly fish.

His mouth twisted into what must have been an unholy grin the blindfold was in rags; at this point anything he was wearing was in rags.

Joey lost himself like never to the thrill, fighting would always be the ultimate high.

Left kick, sickening snap of knee being disjointed on impact.

Right, kick , smash no duck, quick slide out-of-the-way from an incoming person then knee up again.

It was simple and he could do his favorite thing, not think.

This is what he is made for. His blood sang a heady melody, crying out in deadly sharp song.

He knew he was there. That part of him deep within. That coiled patiently in the blackness with vibrant red eyes. No longer languid in wait but bright and tense to spring.

Logic ceased to matter.

Joey became completely absorbed, consumed by that bottomless hunger.

His salvation spoke up in sharp, harsh terms that offered no quarter.

The voice demanding he obey in rigid tones.

The beast howled its defiance, snarling and snapping in clear objection to any confinement.

He failed to dodge that unexpected thwack that brought him back, funny carefree joey back.

Face to face he met the dark.

Had to protect.

His mind flashed to his sweet sister.

She would be home now, once more wondering.

He Had to.

He had to crumple unceremoniously to the floor like a bag of bricks.

Had too.

Make it a little further, just a bit more.

Then it happened; everything came in riding on crows wings in mantled black.

The bird's sharp caw piercing the figurative  air harder than any right hook, in one fell swoop crushing down on him.

Red eyes moved closer brushing in around him, blanketing him with harsh thoughts. Temptation heavy. Till he was only Atlas sworn to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders.

There was no point. It growled in annoyance at his foolery.

Least ways not anymore ..

An image of Serenity joyful at easier time flashed by.

Even for her, his beloved sister he was too late.

An angry roar, blood in his mouth in his ears the taste of iron thick on his tongue.

"I said heel mutt or are you suddenly deaf?"

Deep inside him it screamed.

The thing snarled, clawing its way viciously up digging in, pushing to the surface.

Order it rumbled he had been given an order, his mind scrambled to comply.

Orders.. He must move.

It wouldn't do for him to stay lying here bruised, cut and face mixed up as good as pancake batter.

But not broken.

Never broken.

A tall shadow invaded his field of vision taunting him to stand.

With an unearthly roar, he surged to his feet, pale arms reached out and steadied him.

While his eyes flashed a terror striking crimson red. The presence backed away.

He was Joey Wheeler that's who he fucking was a he was fresh out of mercy.

They wanted a show than he'd damn well give them all one worth a standing ovation.

Only, that would be a little hard to manage with their hands and other attributes kissing the cement.

I will not fall again he promised.

The satisfying crunch, crunch of bone, his occasional yelp and howl of hurt.

Then the blood streaked mess of Joey's opponent let out an ear shattering scream serving as a sure signifier to the breaking of a yet another nose beneath his fist.

If revenge was a dish best served cold then, he was fiery hot avalanche destruction and the saying needed changing.

Briefly creeping on the edges of his new-found sight he was aware of another beside him.

He felt an unexplainable familiar comfort. From, where he was not sure.

The others eyes sported a vibrant, electric, lighting strike blue, he was methodical and entirely devoid of leniency in his deliver-ency of punishment.

Dealing it out with a smooth silence to the blonds awful racket.

If Joey is the wrecking ball, this man is the clean sweep.

Brunette hair whipped about upon a face carved from sheer marble stone.

Finally, recognition and the person made themselves known.

Seto Kaiba stood beside him eyes smoldering hair eskew, and he did not look in any way happy.