milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Ramon's had a lot on his mind lately, not that he'll probably admit it. It does explain the rather distant look on his face though, as he toys with a tequila in his booth.

Distractions may or may not be welcome, depending on what he thinks of you. But that shouldn't be a deterrent to anyone wanting to talk to him.

[OOC: ~~May be occasional slowtime to feed child or self but other than that, here until about 1am GMT. Tag anytime!~~ Annnnd, must beg slowtime pls. Already stayed much longer than I intended to! :D Will continue threads tomorrow. Thanks all!]

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What's he supposed to do, say OK and lose? Not a fucking chance. Since she's that close - and has slammed him hard enough to knock him breathless - he takes about the only option open to him and spits a mouthful of blood in her face.

'Fuck you,' he grates out as he brings a knee up, hoping to knock her standing leg away enough to break the hold pinning him down.

Plourr lifts a hand to swipe blood and saliva from her face, and then she grunts and staggers once, the hard kneeing knocking her off balance.

The problem with doing this with nearly a year since she's been in a real fight and six weeks after having a baby is that her instincts are, while still a force to be reckoned with, not honed to the point that they once were, and the same can be said about her level of physical fitness.

He'd be glad to know that since its been about a year since he had a proper fight himself, maybe even longer. But there are some things that are just ingrained and one of them is to get up as soon as you get free and if your opponent is down, hit it. So that's what he tries to do, taking advantage of her lack of balance and throwing a hard right at her face.

'You crazy bitch.'

He'd almost forgotten about the thing with Rial but its coming back to him now, strangely enough.

She gets a forearm partway up, but not high enough to block the punch; her head cracks to the side with the force of it, and when her gaze snaps back to him almost immediately, there is blood in her mouth and fire in her eyes.

For the split second that she's looking at him, that is, before she raises a foot with improbable speed and goes to send him flying backward with a boot to the gut.

Edited 2007-11-26 21:53 (UTC)

Jesus, is she human? Most people go down under a punch like that so he's not expecting her to still be standing...the kick catches him square and he does go flying backwards, his breath leaving him with a choking sound that is laced with both shock and outrage. And it's obvious that she's good at this and that she's not going to stop...almost before he hits the floor he's reaching for the gun in the waistband of his pants, aiming it vaguely in her direction and pulling the trigger straight away with no thought for where they are or who he might hit.

That was a gunshot. Clark has heard enough of them to know. But not only that, it was a gunshot in the bar, where there are kids and people just minding their own business and dammit, Chloe.

Clark's moving before he even really thinks about it. When he gets to Ramon and Plourr, the bullet is inches from her shoulder. He easily picks it out of the air.

By the time the two of them are aware enough to react, Clark will be standing just off to the side, the bullet in a clenched fist at his side. They can wonder about where it hit later, if they want.

"That was a pretty stupid thing to do." It's mostly directed at Ramon, since he's the one holding the gun, but Clark is able enough to tell that Plourr's handed out her share of punishment.

He's met this kid before but can't for the life of him remember his name and its not what's on his mind at this point anyway. The ache in his chest from trying to force a decent breath is taking most of his attention and he's suddenly acutely aware of the blood covering half his face from the first punch. But the kid is just a kid, right? He'd seemed pretty ordinary before and Plourr's still standing so he doesn't lower the gun.

'Stupid? Stupid would be to not shoot this bitch.'

Damnit. He's lost a fucking tooth.

He shot at her. The son of a bitch shot at her.

Holding up the archaic weapon is a wise decision; if he weren't, Plourr would be gunning for him again. Her rage isn't as blind as it was in the old days, when she would have gone forward to kick his ass despite the gun. There are people depending on her now.

That doesn't mean that her hands aren't clenched into fists at her side, though, or that she refrains from spitting at him.

"Fucking coward."

Yeah, this is exactly what Clark wants to do with this afternoon.

He sighs and steps directly between them. "This is over, so put the gun away and then you can both come with me to the cells, where you can continue your verbal bickering to your heart's content."

She called him a coward. He could almost laugh if he weren't so pissed.

'You come at me from nowhere and call me a coward?' he shoots at her, neatly ignoring Clark standing between them. And then decides that this would be a good time to get his ass off the floor. Which he does - slowly, because it's starting to hurt now - and he spits a mouthful of blood downwards before saying to Clark,

'You want me to go to the cells? She attacked me, this was self-defence.'

Not that he ever expects anyone on Security to listen to him.They all seem to be prejudiced against him, he thinks.

"Oh bullshit," she snaps disgustedly, hand on her hip, though she doesn't show any sign of flying at him.

Yet.

Plourr gets a look that clearly states that even thinking about attacking Ramon again would be a very bad idea.

Ramon just gets a glare. "I don't care if it was self defense. You fired a gun in a crowded bar. You're lucky you didn't hit anyone."

He manages to bite off the obvious response, namely that he doesn't give a shit if he hit someone or not. The contempt in the glance he throws at Clark probably conveys the message quite well anyway.

'Well I didn't hit anyone. So where's the harm?'

Clark would never actually say "Are you shitting me?" so this look to Ramon will have to do.

"The harm is if I don't give you time to think about what you've done, there isn't a possibility of you thinking twice about it next time." But just the possibility. Clark isn't stupid and he does remember Ramon.

He motions both of them toward the office. "Shall we?"

Plourr looks at Clark flatly. Isn't he a little young for security? And, that aside-- "You're going to let the son of a bitch keep that?"

'That' is accompanied by a gesture at the weapon that is still in Ramon's hand, if pointed at the ground.

He just stares at Clark, honestly in disbelief that anyone this white-bread actually exists.

'Think about what I've done?'

He laughs as he wipes blood from his face with his forearm, the one holding the gun. Then he shoves the weapon back in his waistband and quite deliberatly turns away. What could this kid do anyway? He's a boy.

'I don't think so. Lock that crazy whore up if youre looking for something to do. I'm going home.'

Plourr's eyes narrow.

Ramon should, perhaps, be less concerned with what the boy could do, and more with what the woman might.

The second that the gun is away, Plourr lunges around Clark, fist balled up and ready for one hell of an uppercut.

Oh for...

He's about to stop Ramon when Plourr makes her move. Fortunately, Clark's faster than she is, though he's not going to move too fast to arouse suspicion, and blocks her fist with an open hand. Plourr can be thankful he compensates enough that while it might feel like she's connected with something very, very solid, no bones are broken.

As for Ramon, Clark stashes the bullet in his jeans pocket and then catches the other man's upper arm in a grip that he doesn't have a chance in hell of getting out of.

"I said this was over," he tells both of them in a decidedly no-nonsense tone. "And you're both going to the cells, whether I have to drag you there or not. Your choice."

Plourr's eyes widen, just a touch, at the fact that the kid was able to hold ne of her punches like it was nothing.

Her jaw set, she crosses her arms.

"Fine."

He's not the one he's got the quarrel with.

That grip is strong. It's Ramon's eyes that narrow now as he stares at the hand holding him. Its quite obvious that trying to tug away is just going to make him look stupid.

'Alanna's head of security, right? I'll go with you but you better fucking make sure I can talk to her.'

She's a tad more reasonable than some of the others, he thinks. Unfortunately for him, he never got the memo about Archie's promotion.

"Archie is," Clark replies, letting both of them go, now that they've agreed to cooperate. Somewhat. "Alanna's a deputy. I can ask either of them to see you if you want." It's a reasonable enough request. And hey, Clark is technically just a trainee.

Again, he motions them in the direction of the office. "Now. If we could get there with a minimum of insults, that'd be great." Because he's pretty sure they both get the idea that physical attacks aren't going to fly anymore.

If a minimum of insults is the criteria, the walk to the security office isn't great.

But no one tries to slam anyone's head into a wall, either, so there's that.

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