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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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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