[The drop of weight, the smack of Parker's weight onto the half pipe. Almost lets go then, lets her wallow in the failure of it, but then Parker is wrenching, twisting, trying to break free of her grip and Shepard-- tightens her hands, catching her boot on Parker's hip. Steering her around on the smooth concrete and letting go only when she has a purchase with her foot. Kicks her away. Sends her sliding back a few inches so she can step back - one, two, three.
Wishful thinking. Not that it's hard to get Shepard angry, not that it's hard to make her bristle and spit and swing for real. But not like this. Not with fists or heels or knees to the gut. This she knows like the back of her hand, literal muscle memory. Nothing offensive about a punch, not even about the crack of knuckles or the thud of Parker's forehead against her middle.
If Parker's looking for a fight - a real one -, this isn't how to get it. There's no line of tension in her as she sets to pacing, prowling around Parker at an angle.]
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Wishful thinking. Not that it's hard to get Shepard angry, not that it's hard to make her bristle and spit and swing for real. But not like this. Not with fists or heels or knees to the gut. This she knows like the back of her hand, literal muscle memory. Nothing offensive about a punch, not even about the crack of knuckles or the thud of Parker's forehead against her middle.
If Parker's looking for a fight - a real one -, this isn't how to get it. There's no line of tension in her as she sets to pacing, prowling around Parker at an angle.]