More Equal Than Some

[Jonathon Orwell]

Well it is my job. *I smirk and shrug.* Whoever it is we /helped/ then I am sure they are better off now than they were. *I am by my desk now and reach below the desk top and feel around for the button. My finger slides across it and I smile slightly, pushing it so it sends a silent alarm to security.*

[Masta Destroya]

*laughs a bit* So oblivious in your own tower. We got her out weeks ago. Right under your nose. Like your finger that is now pushing that button. *takes gun out, fires at the door a few times, sealing it shut* I'm a Killjoy, not stupid.

[Jonathon Orwell]

Could have fooled me. *I smirk at him and watch his behavior. He has a short temper and is arrogant. The door might be sealed shut but it is not something the security has not experienced before. Maybe a minute delay at most. I fold my arms across my chest and lean back against my desk, remaining calm and reserved.* Once a prisoner has been transferred out of a cell they are under the care of a different division, so not my problem nor my concern. And the button was fairly obvious, you would have to be drooling to be stupid enough not to notice. Tell me though, I am curious, who is this supposed killjoy you 'rescued'.

[Masta Destroya]

Not important. She's safe, but you're not. I'm here to settle this. *glances at watch for a few seconds, 5:16:54* And prevent another incident, I hope.

[Jonathon Orwell]

*I smile and raise my eyebrows, amused. I watch him and nearly laugh. Instead I just stand up straighter and chuckle. I smooth out my suit jacket and rebutton it in the front after straightening my tie.* Well you had better do whatever it is you are going to do now because soon enough my security team will come bursting in through those doors. *I smirk, watching and calculating. If he shoots I can throw myself behind the desk. If he lunges for me I know the pressure point on his neck that I can grab that will take him down. I dare him. Do it.*

[Masta Destroya]

*puts hand on gun, pulls it out of my pocket, but instead of shooting it, throws it at his head, then kicks him in his chest*

[Jonathon Orwell]

*As soon as the gun hits me I have my palm pressed against my head.* What the fuck man?! *But my miniature tyrant is cut short as all the air in my lungs is pushed out of me. I fall down on to the wood floor and look up at him, smirking.* Well that was certainly unexpected. I give you a point for originality. *In one swift motion I kick a leg out at his kneecap.*

[Masta Destroya]

*uses the coming fall to headbutt him in his stomach* As was that.

[Jonathon Orwell]

*Any air I gained back is once again lost and I quickly shove him away before tackling him to the ground. For a moment we are just tangled limbs but I manage to sit up enough to swing a fist at his face.*

[Masta Destroya]

*returns a fist to his nose, kicks him off* I don't have time for this. *looks at watch quickly, 5:09:36*

[Jonathon Orwell]

*I curse, spitting blood out of my mouth that runs down from my nose. I hold it between both hands and feel it's bent shape. Definitely broken. I frown over at him before glancing over at the door. Voices outside. And my gun and holster hanging on the wall. He is blocking the way so I stumble to my feet and punch him hard in the stomach.*

[Masta Destroya]

*regains breath for a few seconds, then tackles Orwell into his desk, overturning it, and leaving Orwell on the floor behind it, stands up, looking at the scum on the floor*

[Jonathon Orwell]

*I wince at the pencil stabbing me in the back and pull it out from under me. Where the fuck is security. I glare up him and think of my next possible move. Then I see my letter opener and quickly grabbing it, use my momentum to push myself to my feet. Before he can react I bring my hand down, the blade slicing along his face. I take a step back and smirk as I see the blood.*

[Masta Destroya]

*screams in pain as I feel the blade cut my face, falls back a bit, is on hands and knees, appears to be in pain at first, but then I laugh, and get up, blood dripping onto the floor* It's a knife fight you want, huh? *smiles, blood has stained a few teeth* Well then. *takes out the blade I made specially for this* Shall we?

[Jonathon Orwell]

*I frown and stare at the knife in his hands, cursing inwardly. This is going to suck. There is suddenly a loud banging on the door and a loud voice is asking if I am alright. I smirk at the killjoy and grip the letter opener tighter.* Not much time left. You had better hurry.