Setting
The stench of booze, tobacco, and cigarette smoke are thick in the air, and the place has a rugged, and weathered feel to it.
Like most of the urban packs, Baron's wolves have staked out a decent sized territory within Vargeras, and though The Den doesn't maintain a strict guest list at the door, members of other packs are liable to be met with hostility.
The den house also doubles as a bar; however, humans though allowed, might find service difficult if they aren't good at blending into the rugged atmosphere that is The Den.
Minor brawls and pack spats are relatively common place here, though mind the furniture lest Baron get involved. One should also note that pack law bars the use of weapons with settling internal spats between pack members.
Baron had taken up his usual seat by the window, but business was slow tonight. It would take time for word to spread to his regulars that the place was re-opened again, and he might lose some of his customers who felt the place was still too hot from the scrutiny of the Vargeras police.
There was also still the matter of his trial to address. He was out on bail for now, but the charges where still in place, and both Jesse and Re'Altarm had yet to turn up. It was beginning to look more and more like foul play may be afoot.
"That damn bitch Inviere... reassing me to the Imperial Core... who the fuck does she think she is..." He growled, coming up to the bartender, sitting right besides Jarett and slamming a wad of local bills onto the table.
"I want whatever your strongest drink is, and make it snappy!" He demanded, still in his Imperial duty uniform, though untucked and unbuttoned.
"Keep the change..." He slurred.
At the moment she was enjoying a game of pool with some of the regulars at the bar.
The pack presence was thin tonight, and not even Baron seemed to be hanging around the place. She spotted Jacques at the bar, and gave Raphael an peculiar look. Jacques returned her look with a shrug as he got the man his drink.
Tourists.
Jacques didn't seem concerned about the strange foreigner in the bar though, and she turned her attention back to the pool tables.
The man licked his lips before he stood up, and he took the glass with him as he started over towards the redhead in the room.
"Hey there gorgeous.." He said as he sauntered over towards the pool tables, moving to place his arm around her and pull her close.
"Tell me.." He said, pulling her close to him. "Have you ever been to space?"
She took her shot at the pool table though, before she stood up and moved away from him around to the other side of the table to wait her turn as her opponent took his shot.
"Why don't you try your luck with the floozies at the bar," she told him as she leaned over to take another shot.
Her mind wasn't really in the game though. Normally she dominated the pool tables, but tonight she was lagging against her opponent, and she had botched two simple shots.
"So cruel." He slurred, before he flicked his wrist, and pulled his drink towards him through an unseen force. The mug flying across the bar and into his hand.
"Man! I still got it." He said, making his way over towards her. "I tell you what, give me your number and I'll show you my big Reverence." He said, grabbing his crotch in a fairly crude, suggestive way.
"Names' Raphael... Admiral Raphael McGregor... Aschen Empire... At your service." He mockingly bowed.
For a moment one might almost think she was being coy as she picked up her bottle of beer from the nearby table and took a swig of it. She turned then to face Raphael finally.
"Because with all of that heat you're packing, you could stand a dousing," she told him as she poured the remainder of her beer on his head.
The action drew a few chuckled laughs from the other patrons mingling around the pool tables.
"You Bitch!" He screamed. "You need to be taught a frakking lesson!" He barked as his hand went to his holster, which was of course empty because of him drunkenly leaving it somewhere.
He stood there, beer dripping off his head, and from his now soaked uniform. He was too inebriated to use his abilities, and his weapon was nowhere to be found.
"You bitch! I could have given you a good time! I'll have you hunted down and tortured to death!" He screamed before he drunkenly lunged at her.
It was Desmond who moved to try and calm the situation as he disentangled himself from his chair where he had been flirting with a young woman sitting in his lap.
"Easy there," he said as he moved to help Raphael back to his feet. "Why don't we get your 'ome to sleep it off, aye?" Desmond suggested.
He tried to take advantage of Raphael's inebriated state to guide him towards the front door.
As Desmond moved to help him to his feet, he yanked away. The Nanomachines had been doing their job from his previous bout of drinking, but he was still a long way from Sober.
"Don't touch me!" He snapped, getting to his feet.
"Why don't we get your 'ome to sleep it off, aye?"
"Why don't I burn this city to ashes!" Raphael snapped back. "Maybe... I'll roll back here with an Imperial Fleet... maybe make something up to tell the Emperor... and then... sit back and burn this place to ashes! Don't you know who I am!?? I'm Raphael McGregor! I'm the Son of the Aschen Emperor!" He shouted, before he started to stare at Vanessa.
"All I wanted was to get a little from a hot redhead, and you had to be a stingy bitch... I could have given you anything you wanted!"
His stare was much more intense now, and Vanessa would likely feel a pressure on her throat, and on her chest as Raphael's stare got more intense. The pressure wasn't much, like a big dog sitting on one's chest. But it was slowly starting to ramp up.
It wasn't until Vanessa started to double over, grabbing the edge of the pool table that he realized something was wrong. She was gaping as if she where choking, and Raphael was staring at her with an unwavering intensity.
"Aw 'ell," Desmond said.
His fist connected with Raphael's jaw.
The infamous Raphael McGregor.
Arya was frozen where she stood as Raphael went on his rant. She was unsure what to make of it. That was until she saw him get punched. That's when she whipped out her phone and nearly flew across the room. The camera was on and she was hoping the men would pput on a show for her. Something to send back to Sugar Bear and the others in Wing City. Maybe it would go viral.
"Throw a straight. Then a jab." She said, deciding not to be much help to anyone for now. Not yet, at least.
The object hit the ground with an audible clunk, but it had hit the ground just right that there was an audible pop, and another object was launched from the first.
Raphael saw the small pistol hit the bar floor. He knew he was too fucked up to use his abilities, he also knew he didn't want to get his ass beat, especially with people filming it.
His eyes went to the pistol on the floor, and he threw an Elbow at Desmond to break free so he could make a grab for the weapon on the bar floor.
It seems he had totally forgotton about his backup.
It would be a mad scramble of Desmond trying to get on top of Raphael to hold him down, while Raphael sought to reach the gun only a few feet away.
it would be a quickly executed move. Raphael's left hand was outstretched, and in the foggy haze of Alcohol, he imagined the weapon in his hand.
Desmond was closing in now, and Raphael was whipping around as Desmond closed in, the Pistol now careening through the air. As Desmond pushed his shoulder into Raphael, Raphael's right arm hooked around Desmon'd head, and used the momentum to bring them both spinning towards the ground in an elaborate neck throw which transitioned quickly into a headlock.
As Raphael transitioned into the lock, the Pistol sailed into his hand and the pair would be on the floor, with Raphael holding Desmond in a chokehold, and holding the pistol to his head.
"This wasn't your fight, amacus." He said, sliding his weapon on the power switch of the pistol, moving to activate it, the Weapon however was completely silent, lacking the traditional whine of Aschen weapons.
"This is a Type 34A Disruptor pistol, issued to officers of the Imperial Navy, the most powerful handgun in the Aschen Empire... capable of blowing your head clean off." Raphael pressed the muzzle against Desmond's temple.
"You gotta ask yourself one question... do I feel lucky?" Raphael scowled, squeezing the weapon. "Well do you, punk?"
"Think about what you're doing there, Dirty Harry. Think of the example you're setting and what'll happen to you if this hits the net." Arya continued, tapping a finger against her phone. She wasn't sure if she should intervene. The Aschen had a habit of using disproportionate retribution, even if it was their fault something happened.
Shooting Raphael could lead to that, but so could letting him to get hurt or killed by someone else. The Den was a rough place in a rough area from what Bones could gather.
Who knew who would show up and take offense to Raphael holding a gun to a guy's head?
"Come on, bro. Settle down."
"'ey, listen to the lady. You don't 'ave to do this," he rasped out "Just put the gun away an' I'll buy you a drink. No 'ard feelings, alright?"
Everything in the bar had fallen silent as Raphael held Desmond there with the gun to his head. Not a one thought to call the police though.
"The price for assaulting an Admiral of the Empire is summary execution." He said, holding the weapon firmly to Desmond's head and even pressing into it some.
"Should have stayed out of it. No one fraks with me, no one tells me no. I get what I want, and you're about to pay the ultimate price."
His finger squeezed the trigger, and the subtle but audible click of circuits being connected could be heard. But nothing happened. Raphael pulled again, and nothing happened. It was then he noticed the glimmer of the energy cell on the floor, and he pulled the gun away and then he shoved Desmond away before going to his feet.
"This isn't over!" He shouted to the pair, as he started towards the door.
Click.
He opened one eye. Still alive?
Well that was unexpected. Luck it would seem was on his side tonight, but rather than taking his good fortune graciously, he decided to flirt with it a bit more.
"Don't worry. It 'appens to all of us. I won't tell if you don't."
He rubbed at his neck as Raphael released him, and he watched the man move for the door. Once it was apparent that Raphael was clearing out, he dusted himself off and picked himself up out of the topped chairs to go check on Vanessa. He lay light hand on her arm and gave her a concerned look.
"You alright?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. Who was that creep anyways?
"It's probably why people say they fuck sheep." She said, "But, that's just a rumor that I can't confirm. I hope it ain't confirmed."
"Well hopefully that's the last we see of him. I think I'm going to clear out for tonight though. The place is closing soon anyways," she said.
"You want me to give you a ride 'ome?" he asked.
"No, I brought my car. Thanks though. You'll let Baron know about what happened?"
"Yeah, don't worry about it."
Meanwhile, as Vanessa grabbed her jacket and headed out, Jacques gave a holler at the bar.
"Last call!" he announced.
It hadn't taken long for the silence of earlier to gradually rebuild into the low din of conversations as the bar patrons seemed none the worse for wear after Raphael's outburst. Apparently that sort of thing wasn't terribly uncommon around the place.