outsiderslogs | like a big pizza pie (open)

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like a big pizza pie (open)

who. Marco and you!
what. Delivery boy shenanigans.
where. Zeta District.
when. Right now!
warnings. How questionable can a 13-year-old get? (Don't answer that.)

[ Moving people's food around the district for them beats hauling rubble, though Marco could do without the cheesy delivery boy uniform. However, he approaches this delivery business with all the highly directed tunnel-vision of someone who has played lots of video games and knows how to scoot all over the map in the most efficient manner. Having to fake smiles and suck up for tips wasn't the worst thing, either. ]

(OOC: I have no preference between prose or action spam, so I will reciprocate whatever you start with! Scenario options are presented below, but you're welcome to start a new top-level thread with anything else if you have something in mind.)

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[ Running away was never Marco's strongest defense, anyway. Short legs and a slothful lifestyle means that he really wasn't a great sprinter; he regrets doing so poorly in gym class when he feels a hand on the back of his shirt pulling him up just short of the alleyway. ]

Okay, okay, you got me. So how about I apologize, clean up the mess, and we move on with our lives?

[ He flops limply, showing that he's not putting up a fight, and pastes an appropriately remorseful look on his face. ohgodpleasedontkillme. ]

[Nope, that isn't going to work. Dun practically carries him back towards the road, keeping his grip on the collar firm. While waiting for the road to clear of any shuttles, he starts lecturing Marco with a cold, menacing tone.]

Do you have any idea how close you were to being run over by those metal deathtraps!? You could've been severely injured, even killed. You could've caused an accident and injured other people as well! If you have two eyes, use them, or risk losing them.

[He slaps Marco on the head and starts walking across the road when it's clear. And don't think the lecture is over just yet, because he will continue to rail at Marco all the way back to the apartment.]

And your parents must be ashamed of you; where are your manners!? You do not throw food items at your elders, nor do you address them a roll of the eyes or with rude language! You conduct yourself with subservience and politeness, or you hold your tongue and keep out of the way.

[Opening the door, he drags Marco inside, ignoring whatever complaints or comments that are coming from the boy. The rooms inside the apartment have undergone a transformation; those stakes Marco might've remembered seeing earlier? They're arranged in a strange pattern at one part of the room. There's also a rack nearby, holding two weapons inside: one is a normal sword, while the other appears to be a broader and heavier sabre. The whole room smells a bit like smoke as well. The other two doors lead off into other rooms, but a quick glimpse reveals that one room has metal targets while the other has something akin to a scarecrow set up in the middle. Probably the most obvious feature of the room though is the giant cabinet-like thing facing the two now. It's made out of wood, with two tablets written in Chinese lettering placed at the back of the cabinet. In front of it is a small urn where three candles are burning, the source of the smoke smell, and adorning the left and right of the urn are small bowls of food. ]

[ Oh god, just kill him! The lecturing is horrible. Dun's worse than the assistant principal. Marco flinches at getting smacked on the head, but then just staggers along helplessly as he gets dragged along. Mentally, he makes the 'blah blah blah' noise just to drown out the onslaught of words, but he keeps his mouth shut for the most part except for some grumbling about the rough handling.

Of course, just when he thinks he only needs to smile and nod through a lot of yelling and shaming, they get inside. ]

Okay, dude, this is too weird. It was weird enough that I ended up in this sci-fi movie nuthouse, but now I'm in a kung fu movie nuthouse. Are you actually like, building a freaking dojo in here?

[ Yeah, all of that stuff about respect for elders just went completely over his head. ]

[Another smack to the head, before Dun throws him onto the ground hard.]

On your knees, brat. Stay there and don't move until I tell you to. If you so much as twitch, I'll use you as practice for my staff training.

[And to emphasize what he means, he pulls out a long wooden staff and rests it against the wall.]

Use this time to think over your actions and repent.

[With that done, he picks up the hammer he'd dropped to chase Marco and returns back to his renovation work.]

[ Marco yelps again as he gets smacked. He's about to make some smart remark about how he's a little too old to be put in time out, but after seeing that staff, he decides to keep his mouth shut.

For. About two minutes. And then his left leg fall asleep. Also, his nose itches. ]

Um. So. I kinda have to go back to work sometime. Like, keeping up with my duties and all? It's a responsibility thing, y'know.

[ Because telling Marco to shut up never works for more than two minutes anyway. He's keyword-stuffing here, in hopes that the crazy kung fu man buys it. ]

Also, I need to pee.

[The moment Marco opens his mouth, there'll be a sharp whack to his arm. It's not hard enough to bruise or anything, but it'll definitely sting.]

I thought I made the rules of your penitence clear; keep your mouth shut and kneel there in silence. And if you so much as dirty the floor, I'll be sure to have you clean the entire area two times over.

[ A pathetic whimper escapes as Marco gets smacked. This was so totally abuse.

Instead of staying quiet, though, Marco waits until the stinging fades to a dull ache. ]

CanIatleastcallintoworkandtellthemI'llbelategettingback?

[ After spitting out the words as quickly as possible, he grits his teeth and waits for another blow to land. ]

[The blow doesn't land, but Dun's not giving him any sympathy points either.]

No. You should have thought of the consequences of your actions before you decided to throw food into the premises. Now, not a single word out of you until I say so.

[That's Dun's calm reply as he continues on with his own work. He's intent on teaching Marco a lesson and he's a proponent of the old school style of doing so. Partly because the old school style is the current way of doing things for him, and also because if it works for him and his kids, it'll do for Marco as well.]

[ Marco considers it progress that he manages to get words out without getting hit. Bad move, Dun; Marco sees this as a war and not a learning experience, and the battle's not over, yet. ]

Well, you should have let me finish speaking before slamming the door in my face! How rude is that, huh? The company's got some pretty specific procedures to follow in the event of a misdelivery, and I dunno what you expected to happen by forcing me out of protocol.

[Two can play that game. Before Marco can go any further than "Well-", there's a second whack on his other arm. Dun means for Marco to kneel and keep quiet, and if Marco doesn't comply then he might have to take further drastic action. Nothing too scarring; Dun doesn't want to break any bones or leave him unable to function. But Dun can get creative with punishments and its Marco's prerogative if he wants to test Dun's patience. He repeats again, his voice taking on a hard edge.

Don't test me boy. I'm the last person you want to mess with,

[ The way Marco sees it, he can shut up and take his punishment in peace and maybe be able to escape with a minimal of bruises, or he can keep running his mouth, giving Dun verbal jabs in response to all the physical ones, until he either gets beaten to a pulp or eventually thrown out in sheer aggravation.

He doesn't want anyone knowing he can get pushed around.

With that in mind, he grits his teeth and finishes everything he wants to say even as the blows keep landing. He isn't a masochist so much as pretty damned stubborn and somehow, the thrashing doesn't stop him from running his mouth. ]

So...is that it? Beating up a kid and all.

[ There's an edge to his voice, too, but it's more of a waver as he tries to contain the pain while daring Dun to inflict more. He manages a forced grin as if this is all no big deal. ]

[Dun actually gives Marco a disbelieving look. He didn't even hit Marco with a barrage of blows when the kid runs his mouth. Maybe just one or two extra hits at the start, but when he catches the drift of Marco's full message, he does withhold anymore knocks. And really, compared to how he's been disciplined by his teachers, he's being really easy on Marco.]

What are you talking about? I've barely bruised you. The situation would go better if you just did as you're told.

[ So Marco's drama queen act is getting him somewhere. He squints at Dun with an equally disbelieving look. ]

Uh-huh, and I've been told to do my job by someone who's like, actually in charge of me! So on who's authority are you doing this, dude?

And the owner of the fine establishment you're working for tells their employees to throw food through an open window and show blatant disrespect to their elders? What's the name of this restaurant? I'll have a word with the man in charge and tell him what I think of how those under his service are being taught to behave.

The owner of this fine establishment grants a certain amount of independence to its operatives to create solutions in the event that they're off the protocol. In other words, improv, dude.

[ As Marco's talking, his eyes scan the room for a way out, but it looks like he's not going to get anywhere until Dun actually lets him go, if his first attempt to escape was anything to learn from. So he decides to keep running his mouth and see what that gets him. ]

We'll see what your employer thinks of your sense of independence and improvisation then, brat.

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like a big pizza pie (open)

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