Anatoly Valeriovich Sergievsky (
chesspolitik) wrote2012-04-13 08:24 pm
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The Ever-growing Suspicion... (Dated 3/17)
For a moment, Anatoly considered being the better man and letting Freddie walk away. He could pick up the pieces and continue the game as if it had never been interrupted - he had certainly played against Freddie long enough to be able to have a sense of his move patterns. This was the best thing to do, the right thing to do.
He considered all of these things then got up and angrily followed Freddie out of the room. He would come back later for the board but this was more important. It wasn't as if it could get up and walk away, after all.
"Trumper!" he shouted once they were outside. "You are walking away and you call me the coward?"
He considered all of these things then got up and angrily followed Freddie out of the room. He would come back later for the board but this was more important. It wasn't as if it could get up and walk away, after all.
"Trumper!" he shouted once they were outside. "You are walking away and you call me the coward?"
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"Also? Fuck you."
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He did, though. He very much wanted to hit Freddie right in the center of his smug face and bring him down to the ground, pretend he was Molokov and just vent. It would not help anything but he would feel so much better afterward.
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He didn't grin, but he did flash a smirk before balling his hand into a fist and smacking it into Anatoly's stomach. See him come back from that quickly. "At a loss for words?" he taunted.
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She'd like to think that she couldn't believe it, but truth be told, she was somewhat surprised that she hadn't stumbled over a fistfight sooner.
She entered the room just in time to see Freddy's last shot and she stood, momentarily struck dumb at the sight. Had it really come to actual fistfights, really? How on earth did this happen?
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"Why don't you go to hell?"
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"Not before you. So, what? Just going to stand there and take it?"
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Coming into the room, she intentionally and deliberately placed herself in-between the two. If they wanted to continue the fight, they'd have to do it through her. "I can't believe you're fighting like children. Now, stop!"
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"I am sorry," he said, looking down at the ground. "I did not mean for you to see this, Florence."
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"I should say that he's not sorry for hitting me, just that you caught him in the act."
He looked past Florence to Anatoly and snorted.
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"I am so tired of the both of you fighting. Can't you ever just get over it?"
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The truth was that he needed Freddie as much as Freddie needed him. They were bitter rivals, they were each other's benchmark. They were two great grandmasters in a titanic battle and no one could come close to matching them. They were tied together because of Florence and all the other things that had happened and if they didn't go up against each other, they might go mad.
"You know him," Anatoly said to Florence, deliberately ignoring Freddie. "When have you ever know him to get over anything?"
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Their conflict...it was just a part of who they were. He had a temper; she knew that. Did she not know that Anatoly had a temper to rival his own?
"If you're tired of it, you don't have to watch it." He shot Anatoly a glare at that last remark. Oh, he'd get what was coming to him for it, no doubt about that.
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Taking a step towards the door, she'd completely forgotten what had brought her up here in the first place. "I'm done, I'm moving on. You can hang yourselves for all I care."
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"No, you should not have to watch," Anatoly called out to her. "It must be very old watching him act like a spoiled child."
He turned back to Freddie and crossed his arms. "Which you are."
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There was a particular glint as he looked at Anatoly. He'd come here to help the other man get out a little aggression, maybe figure out what was going on with him, but now he was beginning to lead toward just beating him senseless.
"I think you can do better than calling me a child."
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"You don't have a championship to fight over, we all have our separate relationships that we're all happy with, and yet here you both are, ready to beat each other up over what? Old times' sake? Tell me, please, why I don't go find the IPD, Prior and Lex to drag you both apart and keep you separated."
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"We fight because it's what we do." It was their relationship. They hated each other, they grudgingly liked each other, they needed each other, they couldn't stand to be together.
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Florence headed back to the door, pausing one final time. She was frustrated, defeated. Right at this moment, she wondered what she'd seen in either of them. "I really don't know what I thought was going to happen. What I expected. I guess I expected better. From both of you. Beat each other up, I don't care anymore. I've moved on. Pity you couldn't do the same." And with that she left. Regardless of what she'd been doing earlier, she just wanted to go find Jack, curl up, and maybe cry over the last death of what had been her life.