Post by Gypsy on Oct 21, 2015 17:54:20 GMT -8
CAST: Jasper Cross (ofnoends@aol.com), Saint Jones (shotgun poIitics@aol.com)
eatltup@aol.com)
SUMMARY: A trip to Murphy's pub results in an encounter with Saint Jones, after killing a bottle of tequila between themselves, a brief bar brawl ends in the two ditching out together for further mischief.
TW: violence
[ Jasper ] What kind of establishment let a girl like her in? The kind that didn't mind selling a few pints, that's what. The night was still fairly early, with a few guys surrounded by a billiards table and quite a few more settled along the bar and various tables. Murphy's wasn't all that packed yet but it wasn't empty either, just filled enough to be comfortable without flooding the place with the heat of too many bodies. Nothing in particular had drawn the girl to the pub except that it was close and had what she was looking for. It had a pleasant worn and welcome feeling without feeling like a dive, all that aged wood and seats covered with worn faux leather that seemed to last ages. Jasper had settled herself up near the bar to lean along the lip while she balanced on the tip toes of heeled boots that reached just above her calf. A little bit different from her normal look, as was the majority of her attire. The stockings and garter belt? Those stayed, but shorts were replaced by a little denim skirt and the norm of tank tops taken over by a little halter number with small silver buckles just past each shoulder and another cinching the bottom closed. Hell, it was Friday, right? And maybe...just maybe..she was finally breaking out of whatever was left of her funk. A ring laden hand waved a bit in the air while she waited to get the bartender's attention, half tempted to crawl herself onto a barstool for added effect. The usual crimson lips were starting to fall into a bit of a tri-pierced pout while prismatics glanced over the welcoming bottles of alcohol lining the back wall. All of it of it would surely be more expensive than what she could drink at home, but half the point of going out was to be social, right? Social and away from just about everyone she knew. Just to get away and enjoy herself in a way that hadn't really happened in a long ass time. Maybe she'd even find a little bit of trouble, who knew! The night was young and full of promise!
[ Saint ] "Okay, okay. That's enough games, enough chances for you to win back your money. I mean, if we play another double or nothing and you don't fork over the cash, well then, I'm just gonna' have to kick the ever lovin' shit outta' you on principle of the matter alone. I can't stand a fuckin' sore loser, but what I hate even more is a sore loser who doesn't know when their beat. Trust me, your ass is grass, and I'm gonna' smoke it all up if you don't fuckin' pay up." Oh, was that a certain someone who carried a big stick and spoke with a twinge of southern hospitality meets big city hostility? It sure as shit was. Saint had gone from lightheartedly handling his pool cue as if he were Donatello of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Spinning it around like a bo staff, that is until in a blink of an eye, he had the wooden shaft of his pool cue across the man's throat, and the cheapskate was being uncomfortably shoved back onto the pool table. "Oh, would you look at that. You know, I don't really know how to tell you this, but your pants are fallin' off. For fuck sakes, man, have some fuckin' pride in yourself. Fuckin' slob." Of course, the transaction had attracted the wrong sort of attention. Namely from the other players 'friends', if that's what you call them, as they began to put their nose where it didn't belong. Saint played it off like it wasn't that big of a deal. "It's fine, guys. I was just leavin'." They were crowding around him, so naturally he had nowhere else to go when he accidentally stumbled into one of the larger fellows. Fortunately he bounced off all apologetic like, but that was simply to cover up the fact that he had just pilfered the man's pockets with a little sleight-of-hand. Saint was all smiles when he reached a vacant stool at the bar. Idly tossing the man's wallet onto the bar counter so he could climb up onto the stool and make himself comfortable. "What a dumb fuck. I'll get my money by hook or by crook, you stupid son of a bitch. Garçon! Let's have a bottle of Jack Daniels honeyed whiskey, and make it snappy." Of course, he just had to resort in snapping his fingers together for added effect. Just to further put the exclamation mark on his order. Then,was that a skirt he saw fluttering out of the corner of his eye?
[ Jasper ] The billiard itself wasn't all that far off nor was Murphy's all that big to begin with, and Jasper got a good earful of potential ruckus before she even got her drink order in. Man, she already loved this place. Then again she'd loved it the first time when she'd visited with other company for a certain Irish holiday, too. She only vaguely recalled this fact and happily shoved those memories to the back of her mind. A kohl lined gaze shifted back behind her to witness the same tall, tattooed bloke from her old school as she'd seen a few times now, just assaulting some' 'poor' guy with his pool cue. It set a special sort of grin on crimson painted lips, the ordering long forgotten as her figure shifted to brace elbows against the bar while a curious gaze loitered on the situation. It almost started to seem like she might be witness to yet another pub brawl, possibly giving her yet another reason to start loving this place. The little minx was practically on the edge of her figurative seat until she watched Saint slip away and to the bar a few seats down. He probably didn't even notice her, which made the tiny scoff at his order almost private in nature. "Honeyed? Psh, Black Label or nothing." Then again it wasn't her poison of choice anyway. All the watching and commentary apparently lost her the prized spot in line as she watched the bartender just skip right on over her skirted self. Dark lined eyes narrowed and had she a tail it would have been swishin'. "..th' hell.." Time for drastic measures? Skipping off from her spot at the bar with a few steps she slipped around the few souls that separated them before stepping both booted feet along what she assumed was a copper bar for resting ones feet to hoist herself a few inches higher. "And two shot glasses!" The most glorious of shit eating grins set toothily across crimson lips as she looked over her shoulder to regard a fellow former attendee of St. Brigid's, even affording him a wink. What was he going to do? Tell her no? Tell Mira what a pain in the ass she was? "Hey there..." Again that little frame shifted, elbows once more bracing the edge of the bar as she regarded Saint in a more face forward manner. "I'm starting to see a trend with you and sweet stuff. Pumpkin coffee, honey whiskey, Mira.." The last word came followed with an upward twitch at the corner of her lips in all her amusement. " So what's your story?" Not even addressing the fact she invited herself into his little celebration. Not even a blink. Damned cats.
[ Saint ] Saint calmly raked his fingertips along both sides of his undercut, collecting his hair uniformly so it at least appeared neatly collected on top of his head. His hair held waves and plenty of volume; a trait acquired from his mother no doubt. The amount of body evident in his mane was more than enough to invoke envious glares from all of the men with receding hairlines, or those poor bastards who resorted to shaving their heads after turning thirty. "Two shot glasses? So you think you're joinin' me, do you?" He asked, and man did he know how to wear a poker face. The same fingertips that had recently been playing with his hair had since lowered several fractions in order to run down the smooth sides of his face. Saint had recently returned from a quick shave and a haircut; just to trim up the back and sides. He much preferred the novelty attached to a nice, close shave with a straight razor. It had a tendency to bring out the softness in his skin. With a face seemingly carved by the angels themselves, it was infinitely impossible to judge if whether or not he was being serious. Instead of flat-out telling her no, because he knew for all the tea in China that wouldn't work, he just threw up two fingers. "Fine then. Better make it Patron, I don't wanna walk away from this train wreck." It was possible for him to feel the effects of alcohol, he just needed the hard stuff, and plenty of it. Her question didn't really come as a surprise to him. "Oh. Mira? I like things on the sweeter side. Taste wise, anyways." Saint, he just couldn't help himself when he flicked his tongue out at her several times, periodically forcing it to quiver in the most provocative of ways. Oh yeah, and revealing the fact that he also had a silver bolt through his tongue. "We knew each other growing up in New York. And lo and behold, she's here in London. Fancy that."
[ Jasper ] See? She could see getting along better with this guy what that order change and all. The grin even said so as she looked behind her to see if the bartender was going to move any faster with that order. Well, at least they were getting the new bottle. "You don't, huh? Sure about that? I'm not going to apologize for anything that happens when you invite Patron to the party." Not that she minded or cared really, rolling her bare shoulders in a little shrug. He'd never been to those old parties, had he? Well, at least she'd keep her damn clothes on in public. As for that poker face? She might not have seen right through it, but it also didn't seem to faze her. Now with Patron on the way? He'd unwittingly obligated himself to drinking with the little minx. The delightful sound of two glasses and a bottle meeting the bar had her finally selecting a seat and settling into it, wiggly little fingers reaching toward the bottle before diverting to one of the shot glasses. "Hola, Senor Patron.." Accent? Not as entirely failed as one might think, but definitely tourist quality. She let the bartender do the honors of pouring the first shots before sliding her glass closer while listening to what the tongue wriggling fiend had to say. If she looked amused it was entirely because she was. "Uh huh. Taste wise.." The shake of her head brought a few of those bright red strands against her cheek, fingers from her free hand idly reaching up to brush them back into the length of the unshaven side of her head to sort the fray into composure. "Fancy that. So..let's see...New York, Durham, and now London? A lot of traveling going on.." Said the girl who cheated that whole time and distance thing with her Roads far more often than she should have once upon a time. Her glass went up from the bar, lifted by ringed digits in a small form of a toast, "Anywaaaaay. To train wrecks -- and you better keep up.." With that she tilted the shot back for an easy swallow, purposefully letting the metal of her own stud clink slightly against the glass with her own odd little ritual of licking the inside of the little glass before setting it down upright and with a wink. No lime, no salt, no apologies.
[ Saint ] "What can I say? I'm just your average, every day journeyman." He was partially correct in his statement. While it was true he traveled more than he honestly cared to as a child, his father was more the journeyman. Saint had known his old man to become exceedingly restless whenever he was forced to stay in one place for too long. It was as if he were drawn to every war-torn country, and the violence typically associated with whatever civil war they were currently in the middle of waging. Saint had always been well cared for and well-guarded whenever traveling into such precarious war zones. It also served to benefit him, the fact that he had been taught how to carry, fire, and maintain an automatic rifle ever since he was a small child. Perhaps that factored into the exhilarating sensation he received during moments of confrontation, where the potential for violence grew exponentially. Somehow, he just always felt a measure of comfort in those type of extreme situations. Violence was just another walk in the park as far as he was concerned. Cracking skulls never came so easily as it did for him. And now, here he was hammering down shot after shot of tequila. "I once saw a game of Russian roulette play up close. It was a game that included my old man, I might add. He didn't even blink when he pulled the trigger and the hammer clicked. In fact, I don't think I've ever seen him smile brighter or laugh quite as hard since then. Oh well. I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree." Why? Because his favorite hobby consisted of rapidly stabbing the tip of his k-bar in between his fingers. A game he often found more exhilarating to play whenever alcohol was involved.
[ Jasper ] A couple of rabble rousers they certainly could have been, given that Jasper was always up for a bit of spice in her life and a little bit of trouble. I likely attributed to the type of people she attracted and found herself attracted to in the long run. Apples didn't fall far from the tree? The girl more resembled her father than anything, being the infamous feline on campus as it was. Right down to that Cheshire smile that settled on her lips endlessly. Shot for shot she could easily keep up, though eventually she'd certainly come to feel a bit of that warm belly and loosened morals the longer they went on. It wasn't a race, right? Dark rimmed eyes glanced along Saint's whole figure before she gave a scoff, "Pretty sure average doesn't go in sentences with you, buddy. Buuut..a little bit of wanderlust never hurt." Jaz sure wouldn't argue, though she didn't know the extent to which he liked to take such journeys. Far be it from her to call out someone for chasing danger when she'd done it enough times to piss off a few folks on her own. "Oh yeah?" One brow lifted as he narrated the brief tale of his father's venture into that daring game of chance. There wasn't much surprise in those eyes, nor even a sign she was impressed, but she was a bit titillated. "If that's the case, we're going to get along just fine." A further lean against the bar braced her frame as she snatched up the bottle to pour them each another round of shots. "Daddy doesn't really believe in guns. Says you need to know how to use what you've got on you already. I get to watch him 'practice' with the others sometimes. It's all teeth and claws, though. No weapons." Lifting up the small glass she practically wiggled in her seat, "We're suppose to train some next week." Which really meant she was going to get real familiar with a brick wall and some fists if she didn't dodge fast enough. "So that make you the kind of guy that likes to take risks? Or do you just go looking for trouble?" Next shot went down like water.
[ Saint ] "I'm the kind of guy who shares a bottle of tequila with trouble in the flesh." Naturally he tipped his shot glass in her direction, before he hammered it back like all the rest. "It's not surprisin' faerie folk don't approve of weaponry from the modern age. Although, I'll admit, weapons in this particular country is a red tape nightmare. To think firearms makeup something to the effect of two point five percent of all homicides committed in this country annually. It would be an impressive factoid if it wasn't such a fuckin' pain in the ass." He poured himself another shot, then did the same for her. "It's wise to gain experience in all manner of weaponry; worldly and otherworldly alike. The more knowledgeable you are about something, the more likely you'll discover it's weakness." Saint was quoting his old man, actually. Notice that his voice immediately darkened, becoming increasingly more gravelly and pompous in his delivery. It did appear as if he were a chip off the old block, after all. That dark and brooding mentality with a touch of cynical thrown into the mix for good measure. "If you want risks, if you want trouble, well then, I'm your huckleberry." That just came out of his mouth, but it was actually intended to come out just the way it did. "You sure are a pretty kitty. Maybe you'll be so kind as to shoot me your number. Never know when I might want a pussycat purring in my lap, all James Bond villain like. I can totally pull that shit off. Just spin around in like a plush, leather office chair with you stretched across my lap. Now, that could probably net us a win at some costume party." Saint snickered, the corners of his mouth curling up into a charming smile.
[ Jasper ] Was she trouble? Oh, she knew better than to even ask. Of course she was! The catalyst of so many fun times at Brigid's, and even some interesting experiences in London. If you wanted a bit of mischief, you'd likely find it with the cat herself. "Not really hearing any complaint there." Nor should she. Saint likely had at least an idea of what he was getting into if he'd heard a smidgen of her reputation. And if he hadn't? Well..he'd learn. When it came to firearms she could really only frown a touch and shrug her shoulders. Really it just made her think of the incident at the Cat and she wasn't fond of thinking of that night. "I've got a bat and a set of brass knuckles if I want some weaponry. And a few choice 'friends' if it comes down to it." Not to mention she could have the whole Court of Cats with the right words. But there wouldn't have been any fun in letting other people fight her battles. "And I know how to find weaknesses on my own.." The smirk returned and she knocked back the shot he poured her and even tapped the bottle with her glass without so much as a grimace. Patron, she loved her Patron. "Huckleberry? I think you might have had enough there.." She mused, grinning a touch more with an added wink, "I might hold you to that, though." There was the briefest of glances toward the billiards to see if the fellows he'd been playing with early were still a touch surly. There was something way to appealing about knocking back a few shots, getting into a bit of a tussle, and then escaping out the back exit and into the night. Was it that kind of night though? Jaz couldn't even finish pondering before Saint just went off on his little bit about cats and laps, causing her to stare at him a bit. The look on her face was somewhere between amused and incredulous. One ringed finger lifted and pointed his way with both brows going upward, "I'm damn pretty, but I don't know about all of this sitting pretty and purring business. Maybe if you're really nice.." She paused to ponder a moment, "Or really convincing and give me a good reason." The mental image made the girl giggle and shake her head. "We'll start with a number though..an' another shot.." Fishing out her phone, she eyed the bottle. If Jasper had anything to say about it she planned to have them finish that thing.
[ Saint ] "Yeah, I'm not really known for being nice. I mean, I guess if the juice is worth the squeeze. You'll just have to learn to love it." If she were determined that they finish the bottle, they were well on their way to accomplishing that goal. Between the two of them, they had polished off a good three fourths of the bottle. Just pouring themselves each a shot over the course of multiple times. That all equated to racking up plenty of mileage for that one bottle. After all, they had agreed to share it at the commencement. Saint hadn't anticipated slamming back so much hard liquor, but at least the company he kept wasn't too hard on the eyes. That made all the difference where he was concerned. The moment she started searching for her cell, he already had his out on the countertop waiting for her. "Just put your number in whenever." He said, his eyes cautiously watching discreetly from out of his peripheral vision. This wasn't just some random burner phone either, his was the real deal, his own personal smart phone where he kept numbers and information for all of his private contacts. And here, he was willingly entrusting her with the task of inputting her own contact information. Saint figured this was as good a time as any to see if whether or not she could be trusted. Trust was key in establishing any form of relationship; especially friendship. "You can get mine while you're in there. Oh yeah, and you would look much better spread across my bed than in some stiff as fuck office chair." He just felt like adding that little bit extra, if just to see the look on her face. /d
[ Jasper ] "Nice is overrated anyway. Only gets you so far and it's not usually any place fun." Her shoulders rolled in another bare shrug before knocking back another shot and eying the bottle. They really had beat the piss out of that poor thing already, hadn't they? The little fae was certainly starting to feel something but it wasn't so much as to steal away her faculties. It was enough that she grinned a little bit more and perhaps watched Saint a touch longer than might be normal. Hey, he was worth looking at, okay! By the time she found her phone he already had his out, so she just tossed hers on the bar and snatched the other smart device into her ringed clutches. A blink or two allowed her some focus as she stuck to the route of adding a contact. If the option was there then she was also snapping a selfie to go with that contact info. If not? He still got the digits before she sent a text from his phone to her own. If Saint ever cared to look what she texted all he'd see were the letters HPOA S and a winky emoji. See? She could be trusted! And even well behaved enough that he wouldn't try throwing her over the bar or something. "I'll put it in there alright.." A soft murmur of those words were all in humor before she nudged his phone back toward him, her own phone simply meowing as the sent text arrived. He could get a custom ringtone later when she decided what it should be. "That a fact?" What look was he searching for? The one he got was beyond amused and even a little curious. "Might take more than a bottle of Patron t' find out." Contrary to what some might find her reputation to be, the wee minx did enjoy throwing a challenge once in a while. With one hand pawing toward the remnants of the bottle, she slid her phone back into the pocket of her skirt and gave a little shimmy on her seat. The desire for action or to do something seemed to be creeping up her spine, causing a slow drag of pierced tongue along crimson lips in thought. "..last time I was in here..I think there was a bar brawl or somethin'.. And a band..." Ah yes, she remembered a bit of that night and memories brought with then a little smirk for a lot of reasons.
[ Saint ] "I'd sure like to hope that's not all it would take. Otherwise I just might begin to question your ladylike sensibilities." There was a playful smirk in store for her somewhere after his remark had been delivered. Another shot of tequila was poured into his awaiting shot glass. Leaving just enough contents inside the bottle for her to polish off whenever she was good and ready for it. Now, those gents he had dealt with earlier were still seen lurking about the billiards table. Their chatter between one another was loud, obnoxious, and unfortunately fueled by booze. Saint, in his infinite wisdom, didn't figure any of them would be any the wiser to a lifted wallet. After all, they were stumbling around, bumping into furniture and patrons alike. "See that back there? Here I thought was under the impression you English could hold your liquor." Then the Englishman, whose wallet Saint had lifted no more than a half-hour ago, made the connection. Rudely pointing out the culprit who was still arrogantly sitting at the bar, as if he were completely innocent of anything. "Oh. Well, fuck me. It seems as if I've been made. The jig is up." He said, hastily swiveling around on his stool, he wasted no time in returning the man's wallet by chucking it straight at his face. Saint turned back to narrow his eyes onto Jasper in those fleeting seconds. "You comin' or what?"
[ Jasper ] Ladylike. Jaz damn near choked on the shot she was downing in that moment as she began to laugh. A fist to her chest remedied the issue along with a cough and hard swallow. The poor thing nearly watered at the eyes. "I..don't do... ladylike real well.." She recovered with a chuckle full of amusement. "I mean..I clean up alright but..yeah..." One look at her attire really kind of said it all. She'd dolled up maybe a handful of times in her life, and that seemed good enough! It was going to be a rude awakening when Gwendolyn Cross passed the torch and had her daughter attending to the glories of fae politics. Something the girl wasn't nearly as aware of yet, thank goodness. "Besides, where's the challenge in something so easy?" That playful smirk was easily returned as she glanced at the bottle. Damn, they'd killed that fairly quickly! The tequila hadn't even really had a chance to catch up with her belly and metabolism yet, but just you wait! Her gaze moved toward the bumbling men near the back as she just snorted with a shake of her head as she finally claimed the bottle to claim it with a pouring of the final shot. "What the hell does it look like I'm doing?" Any normal girl of her size and weight would have likely been wobbling in their seat, but Jasper still seemed to be doing fairly well. A little flush cheeked and tipsy but not quite on the side of drunk like some might have been. She watched the wallet go flying and let out a slow whistle, witnessing it smack the drunkard right in the face a she gave a sympathy wince. That was her cue, wasn't it? The shot was downed before letting the shot glass clatter to the counter and rotate a few times before it settled lip down on the flat surface. Was she coming? That just sounded like an invitation to trouble. Tipsy Jasper was rather fond of trouble. "Let's do it!" Off the seat she hopped, the slight need to settle her footing allowing her a chance to really feel the alcohol as she grinned wide. "You don't want to stay and play with the other kids?" Cue that cheesy grin as she peered his way and lifted a brow.
[ Saint ] "There's no sport in it. Here, lemme' show you." With that said, he made his approach towards one of the other oncoming drunkards. Saint could easily stand shoulder to shoulder with several American football players back home, standing at six foot seven inches. Calmly he extended his dominant right leg toward, his booted foot landed center mass of man's chest, and he pushed forward with just a subtle amount of his full potential. The momentum alone proved sufficient enough in sending him crashing over a vacant table. It was the manner in which he landed awkwardly on his neck and shoulders that ultimately rendered him unconscious. There wasn't any way he would be getting up any time soon. At least not until closing time, when he would literally be picked up and set outside in the alleyway. "See? They aren't even worth it. Can't even defend themselves properly." He had turned around long enough to speak, and subsequently taking his eyes off the other two for a split second. That gave them both enough time to rally together for a little cooperative strike. One grabbed the nearest beer bottle, the other pulled a knife from his back pocket. They both came at Saint, he just stood back. "You wanna' piece? C'mon then. What're you waiting for? Tag yourself in, partner." Reaching across, he held his hand out for her to slap and tag herself into the mix.
[ Jasper ] How she managed to forget how damn tall he was seemed almost amusing. At five foot nothing there was such an impressive difference. And yet she didn't seem the least bit daunted. Arms folded for a moment as she watched him basically vaulted the man over a table like he was a rag doll. Okay yeah, Saint had some length on him and the strength behind it to boot. Jaz actually gave a mock wince as she heard the body topple onto the floor with a dull thud. A studded tongue clicked against the back of her teeth, eyes meeting his when he glanced her way before darting just in front of him. There wasn't even a chance to warn him though lips sure parted to do so. A beer bottle and pocket knife? Really? Okay, maybe it as more than a pocket knife, she'd still seen bigger. "Oh, what? You want me to fight your battles for you, sweetie?" The girl scoffed and shrugged before one ring laden hand reached out to make contact with a none to gentle slap. Lips met with a quick lick before she simply took advantage of her smaller stature and the fact neither man likely expected the pint sized fireball to actually partake of the crawl. The heel of a booted foot came crashing down on the top of the beer bottle wielding man's foot with a force she really shouldn't have possessed, the inch thick block heel sending a shooting pain along the limb within moments. Wide eyed and howling the man swung the shards of the bottle, but all that drink had certainly impaired his aim as it missed her cheek within inches, "Not the face, you asshole!" C'mon now! Saint was unfortunately right when he said they offered little challenge, which was soon easily proven as a smaller fist impacted with not his chin but his throat. Rendering him into a backwards stumble of coughing and wheezing with the impact of all those ruthlessly hard rings, she watched the bottle drop from his hand as he went to clutch his throat. Lips pursed and those bright eyes rolled with every expectation that he was either going to run for the exit or come bolting back toward her when he recovered. Guy with the knife? He was all for Mr. Legs over there if they didn't get their asses thrown out yet, though it seemed as though he was having second thoughts about the whole situation as frantic eyes looked between the inked up giant and his smaller counterpart.[d]
[ Saint ] Saint just took a step forward, his eyes narrowed on the man wielding a knife. He raised his forefinger and proceeded to wiggle it left to right, dissuading him from doing anything particularly stupid. The first attacker was strictly self-defense, even now it was considered self-defense seeing as he was wielding a knife around, and inside a public place no less. Eventually the third would-be attacker returned his knife to the pocket from whence it came. He did his best to gather both of his fallen friends, and made a beeline for the exit. Saint just stood back, his monolithic frame taking its lean against the wall. They were afforded enough room to skitter by like the insects he considered them to be. He raised his hand to his lips just then to stifle back a small yawn. That's how much they had bored him with their meager attempt on his life. Nothing about that trio was particularly threatening to either himself, or his pint-size counterpart. "So now can we go? I've had my fill of this shithole. No offense, barkeep!" He was still within earshot of the bartender, who so kindly waved him off like the American asshole he was. "C'mon sugartits. Let's blow this joint." Said while gesturing with his head towards the exit.
[ Jasper ] Truthfully she had been craving a little action of the violent variety, but that barely scratched the surface. She'd wanted to feel a sense of adrenaline and even danger, not pummel a few drunk men that could barely see straight. All in all it was terribly anti-climactic when the man put away his knife and fled like a coward to the exit with his busted up friends. A little huff left parted lips as she dramatically smoothed out the front of her skirt. "Man.." There was complaint that tone as she glanced back toward the towering figure of her drinking partner, even a bit of a pout situated on pouted reds. "Yeah..yeah..we can go. But don't call my pub a shithole or I'll kick your ass." Given her stature? She was likely being literal more than anything else. Though that precious pride liked to tell her that she might have had a chance up against him on a better day. "I think we're going to need another bottle.." Yes, because that was an absolutely swell idea. The nickname got one of those Looks as she sauntered alongside toward the exit, sharp nails tapping against her hip in a slow drum. The desire for adrenaline was now more than a nagging itch at that point, bringing on that little fidget. "So, you plan on showing me what a real challenge is like? 'Cause yeah..that was lame. Should make it up to me. Show a girl a 'real' good time." The pout melded back into a grin as she cast a glance to her side toward him, a bit of color shifting and churning in her gaze while the normals of the world couldn't see her peculiar gaze. "I mean, if you think you got it in you.."
eatltup@aol.com)
SUMMARY: A trip to Murphy's pub results in an encounter with Saint Jones, after killing a bottle of tequila between themselves, a brief bar brawl ends in the two ditching out together for further mischief.
TW: violence
[ Jasper ] What kind of establishment let a girl like her in? The kind that didn't mind selling a few pints, that's what. The night was still fairly early, with a few guys surrounded by a billiards table and quite a few more settled along the bar and various tables. Murphy's wasn't all that packed yet but it wasn't empty either, just filled enough to be comfortable without flooding the place with the heat of too many bodies. Nothing in particular had drawn the girl to the pub except that it was close and had what she was looking for. It had a pleasant worn and welcome feeling without feeling like a dive, all that aged wood and seats covered with worn faux leather that seemed to last ages. Jasper had settled herself up near the bar to lean along the lip while she balanced on the tip toes of heeled boots that reached just above her calf. A little bit different from her normal look, as was the majority of her attire. The stockings and garter belt? Those stayed, but shorts were replaced by a little denim skirt and the norm of tank tops taken over by a little halter number with small silver buckles just past each shoulder and another cinching the bottom closed. Hell, it was Friday, right? And maybe...just maybe..she was finally breaking out of whatever was left of her funk. A ring laden hand waved a bit in the air while she waited to get the bartender's attention, half tempted to crawl herself onto a barstool for added effect. The usual crimson lips were starting to fall into a bit of a tri-pierced pout while prismatics glanced over the welcoming bottles of alcohol lining the back wall. All of it of it would surely be more expensive than what she could drink at home, but half the point of going out was to be social, right? Social and away from just about everyone she knew. Just to get away and enjoy herself in a way that hadn't really happened in a long ass time. Maybe she'd even find a little bit of trouble, who knew! The night was young and full of promise!
[ Saint ] "Okay, okay. That's enough games, enough chances for you to win back your money. I mean, if we play another double or nothing and you don't fork over the cash, well then, I'm just gonna' have to kick the ever lovin' shit outta' you on principle of the matter alone. I can't stand a fuckin' sore loser, but what I hate even more is a sore loser who doesn't know when their beat. Trust me, your ass is grass, and I'm gonna' smoke it all up if you don't fuckin' pay up." Oh, was that a certain someone who carried a big stick and spoke with a twinge of southern hospitality meets big city hostility? It sure as shit was. Saint had gone from lightheartedly handling his pool cue as if he were Donatello of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Spinning it around like a bo staff, that is until in a blink of an eye, he had the wooden shaft of his pool cue across the man's throat, and the cheapskate was being uncomfortably shoved back onto the pool table. "Oh, would you look at that. You know, I don't really know how to tell you this, but your pants are fallin' off. For fuck sakes, man, have some fuckin' pride in yourself. Fuckin' slob." Of course, the transaction had attracted the wrong sort of attention. Namely from the other players 'friends', if that's what you call them, as they began to put their nose where it didn't belong. Saint played it off like it wasn't that big of a deal. "It's fine, guys. I was just leavin'." They were crowding around him, so naturally he had nowhere else to go when he accidentally stumbled into one of the larger fellows. Fortunately he bounced off all apologetic like, but that was simply to cover up the fact that he had just pilfered the man's pockets with a little sleight-of-hand. Saint was all smiles when he reached a vacant stool at the bar. Idly tossing the man's wallet onto the bar counter so he could climb up onto the stool and make himself comfortable. "What a dumb fuck. I'll get my money by hook or by crook, you stupid son of a bitch. Garçon! Let's have a bottle of Jack Daniels honeyed whiskey, and make it snappy." Of course, he just had to resort in snapping his fingers together for added effect. Just to further put the exclamation mark on his order. Then,was that a skirt he saw fluttering out of the corner of his eye?
[ Jasper ] The billiard itself wasn't all that far off nor was Murphy's all that big to begin with, and Jasper got a good earful of potential ruckus before she even got her drink order in. Man, she already loved this place. Then again she'd loved it the first time when she'd visited with other company for a certain Irish holiday, too. She only vaguely recalled this fact and happily shoved those memories to the back of her mind. A kohl lined gaze shifted back behind her to witness the same tall, tattooed bloke from her old school as she'd seen a few times now, just assaulting some' 'poor' guy with his pool cue. It set a special sort of grin on crimson painted lips, the ordering long forgotten as her figure shifted to brace elbows against the bar while a curious gaze loitered on the situation. It almost started to seem like she might be witness to yet another pub brawl, possibly giving her yet another reason to start loving this place. The little minx was practically on the edge of her figurative seat until she watched Saint slip away and to the bar a few seats down. He probably didn't even notice her, which made the tiny scoff at his order almost private in nature. "Honeyed? Psh, Black Label or nothing." Then again it wasn't her poison of choice anyway. All the watching and commentary apparently lost her the prized spot in line as she watched the bartender just skip right on over her skirted self. Dark lined eyes narrowed and had she a tail it would have been swishin'. "..th' hell.." Time for drastic measures? Skipping off from her spot at the bar with a few steps she slipped around the few souls that separated them before stepping both booted feet along what she assumed was a copper bar for resting ones feet to hoist herself a few inches higher. "And two shot glasses!" The most glorious of shit eating grins set toothily across crimson lips as she looked over her shoulder to regard a fellow former attendee of St. Brigid's, even affording him a wink. What was he going to do? Tell her no? Tell Mira what a pain in the ass she was? "Hey there..." Again that little frame shifted, elbows once more bracing the edge of the bar as she regarded Saint in a more face forward manner. "I'm starting to see a trend with you and sweet stuff. Pumpkin coffee, honey whiskey, Mira.." The last word came followed with an upward twitch at the corner of her lips in all her amusement. " So what's your story?" Not even addressing the fact she invited herself into his little celebration. Not even a blink. Damned cats.
[ Saint ] Saint calmly raked his fingertips along both sides of his undercut, collecting his hair uniformly so it at least appeared neatly collected on top of his head. His hair held waves and plenty of volume; a trait acquired from his mother no doubt. The amount of body evident in his mane was more than enough to invoke envious glares from all of the men with receding hairlines, or those poor bastards who resorted to shaving their heads after turning thirty. "Two shot glasses? So you think you're joinin' me, do you?" He asked, and man did he know how to wear a poker face. The same fingertips that had recently been playing with his hair had since lowered several fractions in order to run down the smooth sides of his face. Saint had recently returned from a quick shave and a haircut; just to trim up the back and sides. He much preferred the novelty attached to a nice, close shave with a straight razor. It had a tendency to bring out the softness in his skin. With a face seemingly carved by the angels themselves, it was infinitely impossible to judge if whether or not he was being serious. Instead of flat-out telling her no, because he knew for all the tea in China that wouldn't work, he just threw up two fingers. "Fine then. Better make it Patron, I don't wanna walk away from this train wreck." It was possible for him to feel the effects of alcohol, he just needed the hard stuff, and plenty of it. Her question didn't really come as a surprise to him. "Oh. Mira? I like things on the sweeter side. Taste wise, anyways." Saint, he just couldn't help himself when he flicked his tongue out at her several times, periodically forcing it to quiver in the most provocative of ways. Oh yeah, and revealing the fact that he also had a silver bolt through his tongue. "We knew each other growing up in New York. And lo and behold, she's here in London. Fancy that."
[ Jasper ] See? She could see getting along better with this guy what that order change and all. The grin even said so as she looked behind her to see if the bartender was going to move any faster with that order. Well, at least they were getting the new bottle. "You don't, huh? Sure about that? I'm not going to apologize for anything that happens when you invite Patron to the party." Not that she minded or cared really, rolling her bare shoulders in a little shrug. He'd never been to those old parties, had he? Well, at least she'd keep her damn clothes on in public. As for that poker face? She might not have seen right through it, but it also didn't seem to faze her. Now with Patron on the way? He'd unwittingly obligated himself to drinking with the little minx. The delightful sound of two glasses and a bottle meeting the bar had her finally selecting a seat and settling into it, wiggly little fingers reaching toward the bottle before diverting to one of the shot glasses. "Hola, Senor Patron.." Accent? Not as entirely failed as one might think, but definitely tourist quality. She let the bartender do the honors of pouring the first shots before sliding her glass closer while listening to what the tongue wriggling fiend had to say. If she looked amused it was entirely because she was. "Uh huh. Taste wise.." The shake of her head brought a few of those bright red strands against her cheek, fingers from her free hand idly reaching up to brush them back into the length of the unshaven side of her head to sort the fray into composure. "Fancy that. So..let's see...New York, Durham, and now London? A lot of traveling going on.." Said the girl who cheated that whole time and distance thing with her Roads far more often than she should have once upon a time. Her glass went up from the bar, lifted by ringed digits in a small form of a toast, "Anywaaaaay. To train wrecks -- and you better keep up.." With that she tilted the shot back for an easy swallow, purposefully letting the metal of her own stud clink slightly against the glass with her own odd little ritual of licking the inside of the little glass before setting it down upright and with a wink. No lime, no salt, no apologies.
[ Saint ] "What can I say? I'm just your average, every day journeyman." He was partially correct in his statement. While it was true he traveled more than he honestly cared to as a child, his father was more the journeyman. Saint had known his old man to become exceedingly restless whenever he was forced to stay in one place for too long. It was as if he were drawn to every war-torn country, and the violence typically associated with whatever civil war they were currently in the middle of waging. Saint had always been well cared for and well-guarded whenever traveling into such precarious war zones. It also served to benefit him, the fact that he had been taught how to carry, fire, and maintain an automatic rifle ever since he was a small child. Perhaps that factored into the exhilarating sensation he received during moments of confrontation, where the potential for violence grew exponentially. Somehow, he just always felt a measure of comfort in those type of extreme situations. Violence was just another walk in the park as far as he was concerned. Cracking skulls never came so easily as it did for him. And now, here he was hammering down shot after shot of tequila. "I once saw a game of Russian roulette play up close. It was a game that included my old man, I might add. He didn't even blink when he pulled the trigger and the hammer clicked. In fact, I don't think I've ever seen him smile brighter or laugh quite as hard since then. Oh well. I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree." Why? Because his favorite hobby consisted of rapidly stabbing the tip of his k-bar in between his fingers. A game he often found more exhilarating to play whenever alcohol was involved.
[ Jasper ] A couple of rabble rousers they certainly could have been, given that Jasper was always up for a bit of spice in her life and a little bit of trouble. I likely attributed to the type of people she attracted and found herself attracted to in the long run. Apples didn't fall far from the tree? The girl more resembled her father than anything, being the infamous feline on campus as it was. Right down to that Cheshire smile that settled on her lips endlessly. Shot for shot she could easily keep up, though eventually she'd certainly come to feel a bit of that warm belly and loosened morals the longer they went on. It wasn't a race, right? Dark rimmed eyes glanced along Saint's whole figure before she gave a scoff, "Pretty sure average doesn't go in sentences with you, buddy. Buuut..a little bit of wanderlust never hurt." Jaz sure wouldn't argue, though she didn't know the extent to which he liked to take such journeys. Far be it from her to call out someone for chasing danger when she'd done it enough times to piss off a few folks on her own. "Oh yeah?" One brow lifted as he narrated the brief tale of his father's venture into that daring game of chance. There wasn't much surprise in those eyes, nor even a sign she was impressed, but she was a bit titillated. "If that's the case, we're going to get along just fine." A further lean against the bar braced her frame as she snatched up the bottle to pour them each another round of shots. "Daddy doesn't really believe in guns. Says you need to know how to use what you've got on you already. I get to watch him 'practice' with the others sometimes. It's all teeth and claws, though. No weapons." Lifting up the small glass she practically wiggled in her seat, "We're suppose to train some next week." Which really meant she was going to get real familiar with a brick wall and some fists if she didn't dodge fast enough. "So that make you the kind of guy that likes to take risks? Or do you just go looking for trouble?" Next shot went down like water.
[ Saint ] "I'm the kind of guy who shares a bottle of tequila with trouble in the flesh." Naturally he tipped his shot glass in her direction, before he hammered it back like all the rest. "It's not surprisin' faerie folk don't approve of weaponry from the modern age. Although, I'll admit, weapons in this particular country is a red tape nightmare. To think firearms makeup something to the effect of two point five percent of all homicides committed in this country annually. It would be an impressive factoid if it wasn't such a fuckin' pain in the ass." He poured himself another shot, then did the same for her. "It's wise to gain experience in all manner of weaponry; worldly and otherworldly alike. The more knowledgeable you are about something, the more likely you'll discover it's weakness." Saint was quoting his old man, actually. Notice that his voice immediately darkened, becoming increasingly more gravelly and pompous in his delivery. It did appear as if he were a chip off the old block, after all. That dark and brooding mentality with a touch of cynical thrown into the mix for good measure. "If you want risks, if you want trouble, well then, I'm your huckleberry." That just came out of his mouth, but it was actually intended to come out just the way it did. "You sure are a pretty kitty. Maybe you'll be so kind as to shoot me your number. Never know when I might want a pussycat purring in my lap, all James Bond villain like. I can totally pull that shit off. Just spin around in like a plush, leather office chair with you stretched across my lap. Now, that could probably net us a win at some costume party." Saint snickered, the corners of his mouth curling up into a charming smile.
[ Jasper ] Was she trouble? Oh, she knew better than to even ask. Of course she was! The catalyst of so many fun times at Brigid's, and even some interesting experiences in London. If you wanted a bit of mischief, you'd likely find it with the cat herself. "Not really hearing any complaint there." Nor should she. Saint likely had at least an idea of what he was getting into if he'd heard a smidgen of her reputation. And if he hadn't? Well..he'd learn. When it came to firearms she could really only frown a touch and shrug her shoulders. Really it just made her think of the incident at the Cat and she wasn't fond of thinking of that night. "I've got a bat and a set of brass knuckles if I want some weaponry. And a few choice 'friends' if it comes down to it." Not to mention she could have the whole Court of Cats with the right words. But there wouldn't have been any fun in letting other people fight her battles. "And I know how to find weaknesses on my own.." The smirk returned and she knocked back the shot he poured her and even tapped the bottle with her glass without so much as a grimace. Patron, she loved her Patron. "Huckleberry? I think you might have had enough there.." She mused, grinning a touch more with an added wink, "I might hold you to that, though." There was the briefest of glances toward the billiards to see if the fellows he'd been playing with early were still a touch surly. There was something way to appealing about knocking back a few shots, getting into a bit of a tussle, and then escaping out the back exit and into the night. Was it that kind of night though? Jaz couldn't even finish pondering before Saint just went off on his little bit about cats and laps, causing her to stare at him a bit. The look on her face was somewhere between amused and incredulous. One ringed finger lifted and pointed his way with both brows going upward, "I'm damn pretty, but I don't know about all of this sitting pretty and purring business. Maybe if you're really nice.." She paused to ponder a moment, "Or really convincing and give me a good reason." The mental image made the girl giggle and shake her head. "We'll start with a number though..an' another shot.." Fishing out her phone, she eyed the bottle. If Jasper had anything to say about it she planned to have them finish that thing.
[ Saint ] "Yeah, I'm not really known for being nice. I mean, I guess if the juice is worth the squeeze. You'll just have to learn to love it." If she were determined that they finish the bottle, they were well on their way to accomplishing that goal. Between the two of them, they had polished off a good three fourths of the bottle. Just pouring themselves each a shot over the course of multiple times. That all equated to racking up plenty of mileage for that one bottle. After all, they had agreed to share it at the commencement. Saint hadn't anticipated slamming back so much hard liquor, but at least the company he kept wasn't too hard on the eyes. That made all the difference where he was concerned. The moment she started searching for her cell, he already had his out on the countertop waiting for her. "Just put your number in whenever." He said, his eyes cautiously watching discreetly from out of his peripheral vision. This wasn't just some random burner phone either, his was the real deal, his own personal smart phone where he kept numbers and information for all of his private contacts. And here, he was willingly entrusting her with the task of inputting her own contact information. Saint figured this was as good a time as any to see if whether or not she could be trusted. Trust was key in establishing any form of relationship; especially friendship. "You can get mine while you're in there. Oh yeah, and you would look much better spread across my bed than in some stiff as fuck office chair." He just felt like adding that little bit extra, if just to see the look on her face. /d
[ Jasper ] "Nice is overrated anyway. Only gets you so far and it's not usually any place fun." Her shoulders rolled in another bare shrug before knocking back another shot and eying the bottle. They really had beat the piss out of that poor thing already, hadn't they? The little fae was certainly starting to feel something but it wasn't so much as to steal away her faculties. It was enough that she grinned a little bit more and perhaps watched Saint a touch longer than might be normal. Hey, he was worth looking at, okay! By the time she found her phone he already had his out, so she just tossed hers on the bar and snatched the other smart device into her ringed clutches. A blink or two allowed her some focus as she stuck to the route of adding a contact. If the option was there then she was also snapping a selfie to go with that contact info. If not? He still got the digits before she sent a text from his phone to her own. If Saint ever cared to look what she texted all he'd see were the letters HPOA S and a winky emoji. See? She could be trusted! And even well behaved enough that he wouldn't try throwing her over the bar or something. "I'll put it in there alright.." A soft murmur of those words were all in humor before she nudged his phone back toward him, her own phone simply meowing as the sent text arrived. He could get a custom ringtone later when she decided what it should be. "That a fact?" What look was he searching for? The one he got was beyond amused and even a little curious. "Might take more than a bottle of Patron t' find out." Contrary to what some might find her reputation to be, the wee minx did enjoy throwing a challenge once in a while. With one hand pawing toward the remnants of the bottle, she slid her phone back into the pocket of her skirt and gave a little shimmy on her seat. The desire for action or to do something seemed to be creeping up her spine, causing a slow drag of pierced tongue along crimson lips in thought. "..last time I was in here..I think there was a bar brawl or somethin'.. And a band..." Ah yes, she remembered a bit of that night and memories brought with then a little smirk for a lot of reasons.
[ Saint ] "I'd sure like to hope that's not all it would take. Otherwise I just might begin to question your ladylike sensibilities." There was a playful smirk in store for her somewhere after his remark had been delivered. Another shot of tequila was poured into his awaiting shot glass. Leaving just enough contents inside the bottle for her to polish off whenever she was good and ready for it. Now, those gents he had dealt with earlier were still seen lurking about the billiards table. Their chatter between one another was loud, obnoxious, and unfortunately fueled by booze. Saint, in his infinite wisdom, didn't figure any of them would be any the wiser to a lifted wallet. After all, they were stumbling around, bumping into furniture and patrons alike. "See that back there? Here I thought was under the impression you English could hold your liquor." Then the Englishman, whose wallet Saint had lifted no more than a half-hour ago, made the connection. Rudely pointing out the culprit who was still arrogantly sitting at the bar, as if he were completely innocent of anything. "Oh. Well, fuck me. It seems as if I've been made. The jig is up." He said, hastily swiveling around on his stool, he wasted no time in returning the man's wallet by chucking it straight at his face. Saint turned back to narrow his eyes onto Jasper in those fleeting seconds. "You comin' or what?"
[ Jasper ] Ladylike. Jaz damn near choked on the shot she was downing in that moment as she began to laugh. A fist to her chest remedied the issue along with a cough and hard swallow. The poor thing nearly watered at the eyes. "I..don't do... ladylike real well.." She recovered with a chuckle full of amusement. "I mean..I clean up alright but..yeah..." One look at her attire really kind of said it all. She'd dolled up maybe a handful of times in her life, and that seemed good enough! It was going to be a rude awakening when Gwendolyn Cross passed the torch and had her daughter attending to the glories of fae politics. Something the girl wasn't nearly as aware of yet, thank goodness. "Besides, where's the challenge in something so easy?" That playful smirk was easily returned as she glanced at the bottle. Damn, they'd killed that fairly quickly! The tequila hadn't even really had a chance to catch up with her belly and metabolism yet, but just you wait! Her gaze moved toward the bumbling men near the back as she just snorted with a shake of her head as she finally claimed the bottle to claim it with a pouring of the final shot. "What the hell does it look like I'm doing?" Any normal girl of her size and weight would have likely been wobbling in their seat, but Jasper still seemed to be doing fairly well. A little flush cheeked and tipsy but not quite on the side of drunk like some might have been. She watched the wallet go flying and let out a slow whistle, witnessing it smack the drunkard right in the face a she gave a sympathy wince. That was her cue, wasn't it? The shot was downed before letting the shot glass clatter to the counter and rotate a few times before it settled lip down on the flat surface. Was she coming? That just sounded like an invitation to trouble. Tipsy Jasper was rather fond of trouble. "Let's do it!" Off the seat she hopped, the slight need to settle her footing allowing her a chance to really feel the alcohol as she grinned wide. "You don't want to stay and play with the other kids?" Cue that cheesy grin as she peered his way and lifted a brow.
[ Saint ] "There's no sport in it. Here, lemme' show you." With that said, he made his approach towards one of the other oncoming drunkards. Saint could easily stand shoulder to shoulder with several American football players back home, standing at six foot seven inches. Calmly he extended his dominant right leg toward, his booted foot landed center mass of man's chest, and he pushed forward with just a subtle amount of his full potential. The momentum alone proved sufficient enough in sending him crashing over a vacant table. It was the manner in which he landed awkwardly on his neck and shoulders that ultimately rendered him unconscious. There wasn't any way he would be getting up any time soon. At least not until closing time, when he would literally be picked up and set outside in the alleyway. "See? They aren't even worth it. Can't even defend themselves properly." He had turned around long enough to speak, and subsequently taking his eyes off the other two for a split second. That gave them both enough time to rally together for a little cooperative strike. One grabbed the nearest beer bottle, the other pulled a knife from his back pocket. They both came at Saint, he just stood back. "You wanna' piece? C'mon then. What're you waiting for? Tag yourself in, partner." Reaching across, he held his hand out for her to slap and tag herself into the mix.
[ Jasper ] How she managed to forget how damn tall he was seemed almost amusing. At five foot nothing there was such an impressive difference. And yet she didn't seem the least bit daunted. Arms folded for a moment as she watched him basically vaulted the man over a table like he was a rag doll. Okay yeah, Saint had some length on him and the strength behind it to boot. Jaz actually gave a mock wince as she heard the body topple onto the floor with a dull thud. A studded tongue clicked against the back of her teeth, eyes meeting his when he glanced her way before darting just in front of him. There wasn't even a chance to warn him though lips sure parted to do so. A beer bottle and pocket knife? Really? Okay, maybe it as more than a pocket knife, she'd still seen bigger. "Oh, what? You want me to fight your battles for you, sweetie?" The girl scoffed and shrugged before one ring laden hand reached out to make contact with a none to gentle slap. Lips met with a quick lick before she simply took advantage of her smaller stature and the fact neither man likely expected the pint sized fireball to actually partake of the crawl. The heel of a booted foot came crashing down on the top of the beer bottle wielding man's foot with a force she really shouldn't have possessed, the inch thick block heel sending a shooting pain along the limb within moments. Wide eyed and howling the man swung the shards of the bottle, but all that drink had certainly impaired his aim as it missed her cheek within inches, "Not the face, you asshole!" C'mon now! Saint was unfortunately right when he said they offered little challenge, which was soon easily proven as a smaller fist impacted with not his chin but his throat. Rendering him into a backwards stumble of coughing and wheezing with the impact of all those ruthlessly hard rings, she watched the bottle drop from his hand as he went to clutch his throat. Lips pursed and those bright eyes rolled with every expectation that he was either going to run for the exit or come bolting back toward her when he recovered. Guy with the knife? He was all for Mr. Legs over there if they didn't get their asses thrown out yet, though it seemed as though he was having second thoughts about the whole situation as frantic eyes looked between the inked up giant and his smaller counterpart.[d]
[ Saint ] Saint just took a step forward, his eyes narrowed on the man wielding a knife. He raised his forefinger and proceeded to wiggle it left to right, dissuading him from doing anything particularly stupid. The first attacker was strictly self-defense, even now it was considered self-defense seeing as he was wielding a knife around, and inside a public place no less. Eventually the third would-be attacker returned his knife to the pocket from whence it came. He did his best to gather both of his fallen friends, and made a beeline for the exit. Saint just stood back, his monolithic frame taking its lean against the wall. They were afforded enough room to skitter by like the insects he considered them to be. He raised his hand to his lips just then to stifle back a small yawn. That's how much they had bored him with their meager attempt on his life. Nothing about that trio was particularly threatening to either himself, or his pint-size counterpart. "So now can we go? I've had my fill of this shithole. No offense, barkeep!" He was still within earshot of the bartender, who so kindly waved him off like the American asshole he was. "C'mon sugartits. Let's blow this joint." Said while gesturing with his head towards the exit.
[ Jasper ] Truthfully she had been craving a little action of the violent variety, but that barely scratched the surface. She'd wanted to feel a sense of adrenaline and even danger, not pummel a few drunk men that could barely see straight. All in all it was terribly anti-climactic when the man put away his knife and fled like a coward to the exit with his busted up friends. A little huff left parted lips as she dramatically smoothed out the front of her skirt. "Man.." There was complaint that tone as she glanced back toward the towering figure of her drinking partner, even a bit of a pout situated on pouted reds. "Yeah..yeah..we can go. But don't call my pub a shithole or I'll kick your ass." Given her stature? She was likely being literal more than anything else. Though that precious pride liked to tell her that she might have had a chance up against him on a better day. "I think we're going to need another bottle.." Yes, because that was an absolutely swell idea. The nickname got one of those Looks as she sauntered alongside toward the exit, sharp nails tapping against her hip in a slow drum. The desire for adrenaline was now more than a nagging itch at that point, bringing on that little fidget. "So, you plan on showing me what a real challenge is like? 'Cause yeah..that was lame. Should make it up to me. Show a girl a 'real' good time." The pout melded back into a grin as she cast a glance to her side toward him, a bit of color shifting and churning in her gaze while the normals of the world couldn't see her peculiar gaze. "I mean, if you think you got it in you.."