"If that's what you gotta say," he drawls, "to sleep at night."
Kovacs pulls out the nemex and shoots the side of the elevator. A glittering redness falls momentarily away-- a hologram to make an old building look new and fresh-- before retracting around the bullet hole. "I'm not fucking kidding, Poe!"
His yelling contains hurt, like a stray dog choking at a new and unwelcome leash.
"You are being such an asshole." As though he doesn't know. As though he's likely to stop. It's almost a relief to use Poe's contrariness as a distraction; the hotel is someone they can both direct their anger toward.
It'd be a relief, even, if it had any effect.
She goes over her current inventory. Gun. Knife. Badge. Not much else of note. The gun obviously won't make a difference, and all she'll manage to do with the knife is dull the blade if she tries to use it like a can opener. What's left? Maybe a maintenance entrance at the top, disguised by hologram, but Kovacs would have to look for it - and she's disinclined to ask him a favor right now.
So she goes over to the door and tries to see if she can wedge her new fingers between it, pull it open through cybernetic technology and pure unvarnished spite.
Kristin wants to punch something. She picks the wall of the elevator, and she's pissed enough that she doesn't remember to use her left hook. The wall dents, metal clanging against the concrete of the the elevator shaft, and it dents enough that the buttons go dark, the hologram blinking out of existence. Turns out it's a clean but dingy elevator cab with faded trimmings.
Fuck.
She jabs at the button for the ground floor, but the elevator doesn't respond. (She's probably lucky this didn't turn into a one-way trip down - the elevator would hit the basement, and she'd hit the ceiling.) "Poe!"
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Kovacs pulls out the nemex and shoots the side of the elevator. A glittering redness falls momentarily away-- a hologram to make an old building look new and fresh-- before retracting around the bullet hole. "I'm not fucking kidding, Poe!"
His yelling contains hurt, like a stray dog choking at a new and unwelcome leash.
no subject
It'd be a relief, even, if it had any effect.
She goes over her current inventory. Gun. Knife. Badge. Not much else of note. The gun obviously won't make a difference, and all she'll manage to do with the knife is dull the blade if she tries to use it like a can opener. What's left? Maybe a maintenance entrance at the top, disguised by hologram, but Kovacs would have to look for it - and she's disinclined to ask him a favor right now.
So she goes over to the door and tries to see if she can wedge her new fingers between it, pull it open through cybernetic technology and pure unvarnished spite.
no subject
"Yeah," Kovacs says, shoulder checking her again as he walks past her, toward his room, "have fun riding back down."
He doesn't know what he'll do if she tries to follow him. Probably fucking explode.
no subject
Fuck.
She jabs at the button for the ground floor, but the elevator doesn't respond. (She's probably lucky this didn't turn into a one-way trip down - the elevator would hit the basement, and she'd hit the ceiling.) "Poe!"