Snippet #2413614

If there were two things that Vincent May-Rose’s ears were finely tuned towards, it was the sound of offers being made for a sale and shouts of anger. If asked about the way his head whipped around to take in the crowd, he’d insist that it was part of his business - nay, his duty - to know when something was worth buying, and had tempers flaring.

After all. If it was worth selling, it sure as hell was worth stealing.

Rubbing a rapidly forming bruise on his jaw absently, the smuggler buried his free hand into his coat pocket, skirting the edges of the circle to see what all the hullabaloo was about. It took him four seconds to see the figure, bound and wolflike, in the middle of the thrashing and shouting mob. Disgust curled in his belly, equaled with a rising annoyance.

Playing the hero did not do well for his reputation.

Sighing, he glanced at the man to his right, shouting his own figures as loud as he could. The man’s hands were above his head, waving his coin rapidly. Vincent considered for a moment, then drew the man’s pistol clear of his holster and fired into the air.

The effect was not as well received as he had hoped. The din stopped for a moment as a few eyes landed on him, before immediately turning back to the lupine and doubling their efforts.

Frowning, Vincent turned the gun on it’s original owner, pointing at his thigh. He fired again.

The man cried out, falling backwards, and that time the crowd stopped their jeering now that a definite casualty was amongst them.

“You all should be ashamed of yourselves,” Vincent snarled, sliding the borrowed pistol into his belt, “tossing figures over a live being like this. Have you no sense of grace?”

Vincent had their attention now as all eyes were upon him. Kane though it would seem was unimpressed. He rested his arms on his knee as he pressed his weight down against the wolfen creatures chest.

"And who the fuck are you to tell me how to run my business?" Kane asked.

He didn't reach for the gun at his hip and arrogance was written all over his face. Several bodies were already moving hands for their guns, ready to draw if things went south. There were about four of Kane's men among the crowd and a brief glance was all it took to send one of them quietly maneuvering through the spectators to get around behind Vincent unnoticed.

Vincent let out a nasally laugh, stepping into the circle of men to stand over the lupine. “Well, for starters, these ingrates are giving you terrible figures. First of all, look at this coat!”

Vincent leaned downwards, gripped some of the lupine’s fur, and sunk his fingers into it. “Fine, silken, heavy. This one’s eaten well. Good muscle structure, too; at least, what we can see of his arms. But you’re doing it all wrong, sir!”

He gestured with wide palms. “You need to let the merchandise stand up. No slave buyer worth his spit would buy a damn dog breath without seeing the hind leg muscle. Are you new at this? First day on the job?”

Vincent glanced back towards a bystander, rolling his eyes. The man chuckled, nodding agreeably. Doubtful that he knew a word of what Vincent was saying, but some men loved to look smarter than others.

Whirling back to Kane, Vincent folded his arms. “Well,” he barked, “are you going to get the product on his feet or not?”

"And how many dolls have you smuggled on the black market lately?" Kane sneered.

The dig drew a few guffaws from the crowd as Kane stood up straight. The canid creature proved far less humored by the situation as it capitalized upon Kane's distraction with Vincent. Rolling to the side he knocked his weight into the back of Kane's legs.

"What the fu-" Kane began before the furred oddity had his hands around the holster strapped to Kane's leg.

The gun was pulled free with a tug and the bound captive scooted back in the dirt as the weapon whined to life in his hands. With his wrist bounds, he had an awkward one handed grip on the weapon that didn't lend for a great deal of accuracy, and the weapon wavered between Kane and Vincent.

Kane's hands were already easing up in a show of being unarmed.

"Hey now, no need for any of that. It was just business, eh?" he asked.

The slaver quirked a smirk as he took a seemingly wary step back to leave room for his men to open fire.

Vincent stepped back, too, keeping pace with Kane as the lupine had the pistol pointed between both of them. “I wouldn’t call it business,” Vincent continued, waiting for Kane’s eyes to flit to his, “because, as usual, you can’t a dog to fleas.”

With that, Vincent suddenly lunged, grabbing a fist full of Kane’s shirt and slamming his head into the other man’s nose. As Kane’s head rocketed backwards, Vincent drew his borrowed gun, leaping to tackle the Wolven as gunfire erupted around them.

Vincent felt a bullet ruffle his hair as he hit earth, men collapsing forwards as the bullets collided with other targets than those intended. The crowd, too, drew pistols and began to randomly fire into their own midst, pleased roars and cries of pain rising above the din.

The captive fired at Vincent, and a wave of heated air scorched past as the wayward shot missed its mark. The weapon appeared to be of no local make, and the streak of light struck a nearby building structure leaving the sheet metal scorched and blackened. The scent of burnt metal filled the street as Vincent's weight drew a grunt out of the captive before it could fire off a second shot.

“I had it under control!” Vincent shouted at the lupine, trying to pin the other humanoid to the ground, “For God’s sakes, don’t move.”

The Wolven's first instinct was to resist, but beaten and malnourished, and with its wrists bound, Vincent had the upper hand. It took a moment more before realization dawned upon it and it raised its bound hands up between them. The length of twine had been bound tight enough that the fur was stained red where it had bit into flesh.

"Get me loose," the canid creature growled.

Vincent’s response was to roll his eyes. “Well, you did just try to shoot me,” he said, pointedly, wrapping his arms around the lupine’s waist as a shot snapped home near their heads.

“Okay, do what you can to shift your weight; we’re going to roll.”

Without further fanfare, he hauled his weight to the side, rolling the two between scuffling boots and kicked up dust. Once they were clear of the melee, Vincent hopped to his feet and hauled up the lupine, pointing the pistol at the knot in the twine and staring at the Wolven’s eyes.

“Kay. Don’t shoot me.”

“Only if you don’t hurry,” the Wolven replied.

“I like your style,” the human fired back, then pulled the trigger, severing the rope. Following through with the motion, Vincent kept the pistol pointed between the lupine’s legs, at a very important piece of anatomy.

“We good?”

The Wolven rubbed at his wrists as he tried to work the circulation back into them while surveying the situation. The gunfight in the street was scattering as participants sought cover in the nearby buildings, and behind whatever bits of scrap and junk they could find.

"We're good," he replied. "Where are we?" he added trying to get his bearings.

Vincent smiled, tapping his nose. “Not far from my ship. You look like a man who could use a lift.”

He turned and began jogging down the dusty streets as the gunfight behind them increased in pace, bystanders joining into the fray. “Once we outrun those guys, we should be clear from any further distraction-”

“ROSE!” came a bellow from down the street. Vincent’s smile died as he glanced towards the sound to behold Ryan and several other thug-like people from the bar tussle, advancing towards him steadily.

“...Or we run,” Vincent shot at his new companion, and exploded into a sprint, his pursuers increasing their pace to match.