- COD Opponent: Fuckin camper!!! You sat in like three spots the whole game!
- Me: No. I was inspecting the 2 x 4's over where I shot you three times, drafting up a safety hand rail over by that ledge where I knifed you in the back, and verifying that the ant species behind the dirt pile was native to the area before I shot that C4 laying in front of you.
- COD Opponent: Go fuck yourself.
- Me: There's hardly enough time between filling you with lead and reloading...
- You: Someone should do something about that.
- Me: You are someone.
There are all sorts of guys in this world.
Some you chat with on the slow ride home from work.
Some that always greet you with flowers on your birthday.
Others that never seem too busy to head out for drinks on that Friday night.
Then there’s that odd guy you call at 5 am when you wake to the sound of something breaking somewhere downstairs.
He never seems to make it to your parties.
He doesn’t drink.
He knows nothing of botany,
but he always answers his phone when Need him to answer.
You hate him for having to chase him all the time,
why he seems to miss all the little things,
but not tonight,
not at this hour…
“How dare you leave me in there the other night…” she began, clutching my arm furiously.
Mad, guilty, upset too much, I clamped my fist around her upper arm to jerk her away, clamped too hard, and she moaned with the sudden pain and our eyes met and her lips parted and I knew what our point really was. As I had known for some time.
This was it. Strength on her. The clamping fist, anger and muscles together. Brute, from me. And she screamed when I threw her down and was upon her, ripping at the spotlessly white Crew jumpsuit and she struggled and kicked but writhed too. She surged into it. Maybe I did too. but both of us fell toward it, scratching and clutching and it got very, very, rough. Perfectly awful. Awfully perfect…
And then laid flat out, pinned and twisting. Blood seeping from her nose and a shiner coming on and screaming at me for… begging me to make her beg and please-oh-please, YES, YES, tell her over and over what she really was! She loved to hear me tell her what she really was.
And I did. But damned if I really knew. Either of us.
It was spectacular and all-encompassing and it racked through me, shocking, stunning bolts of pleasure and pain. Both of us beating on her, abusing her, degrading the angel’s exquisite form and yes, the angel herself and, of course, whatever was left of both of us and always, always, so damn rich with rippling ecstasy. So damn good, somehow. So damn rich.
Eventually mercifully, we slept.
In the nick of time.
_John Steakley / Armor
The passionate, caring embrace of shared violence echos through her thoughts for months… and for him, a reminder of what being a man, a provider, her escape from her own confines. The art of impact between humans is something I know well. _vP
- Master Sergeant: Each of you will fail, but you will fail in your own unique way, and therefore I will dislike each of you on an individual basis. Why, even now, each of you have individual qualities that irritate the living fuck out of me. Do you believe me?
- CDF Recruits: Yes, Master Sergeant!
- Master Sergeant: Bullshit! Some of you are still thinking that I'm just going to hate the other guy.