Scotch! (open)

[desatio]

Desatio smiled as he walked over to the bar. He sat at a stool, knowing that everyone in the room was looking at him, bandages and all. The giant man was in a pair of khakis, loafers, and simple red sweater. He simply smiled at the fact that it wasn't too crowded this evening.

Unfortunately, the current crowd wasn't taking friendly to him. He could hear their asinine mutterings about a "freak" and a "mummy." He could care less about the crowd. If they didn't start anything with him, he'd be fine. He didn't bother looking at the bartender, knowing that he was already getting a suspicious stare. "I'll take three fingers of Scotch. Three of your fingers,My mammoth hands would knock out a bull elephant," he said, his large, ponderous words floating through the air like a slumbering thundercloud. he chuckled slightly.

Sackeim was happily there, hiding in Desatio's class ring, but the others were in their pokeballs. Zinn didn't drink, Alpharabius was a little too crazy to be let loose in the bar, and Dhanus always said he didn't like the smell of alcohol. An odd excuse for a rock without a nose, but what can you do?

[Madd]

The door was brutally pulled outward, as thee click of thick boots pounded the filthy floor of the pits. A short mop of auburn hair wrapped around the young woman's oval shaped face, adding softness--and just the slightest bit of vulnerability. The girl's height however was nothing t o scoff at, and her outfit put most thoughts of her being defenseless out to pasture. Unlike Desatio, the girl was not dressed in a simple, seemingly normal outfit--a bikers jacket was cinched about her face, and strap upon strap littered her lengthy body. A large pair of orange goggles seemed to glow in the dim lights of the bar--flames seeming to spill across their edges. The stub of a cigarette poked out from beneath her pale, smirking lips. On her feet a pair of heavy-duty combat boots resided, bolts dotted about their soles gleamed like jewels.

The girl could feel a few eyes on her, and did her best to ignore them--as the door closed with a click. A inward sense of paranoia however forced her to glance around the room--her orange eyes fluttering around their sockets as she made out the shadowy forms of others in the room. No doubt some perverted asshole was wondering how long it would take to trap her in some dark corner; but she would deal with that when the time came.

--

With a loud click of her tongue the girl moved forward, her arms folded over her chest in a defensive manner. Her movements were liquid, and self assured however, each footfall emitted a loud "CLUMP" as her booted foot met the floor.

After three or so of these steps the door opened again, and a cool wind swept through the sleazy bar. Yelowed eyes glinted n the darkness--as ice blue irises fixed on the girl's moving form. A tail slashed through the darkness, as a paw brushed across the dirt encrusted floor. A series of clicks occurred as the Pokemon picked up speed, it's dark form becoming clear only when it passed directly under lights. A quick leap over a empty--rickety chair, and the lean canine landed with a crouch, his tensed body inches below the other entrant's hand.
"You Fucking bitch . . .when you said "The Pits" . . I didn't think you meant a slum hole of a bar--I thought you meant that disgusting restaurant on Fourth."
The comments were hushed growls, and spoken with great annoyance. The silver earring in the Mightenya's fan shaped ear glinted as he turned his muzzle toward his trainer.
" I am Fucking talking to you. . "
"Damn . . I need some pity for that."
The girl replied with a evil smirk, as the cigarette snub was dropped into a trash bin.

The girl's eyes quickly scanned the room--her hand swatting at her Mightenya's open mouth, as his fangs reached up to deal her a nasty bite. It was then that the bandages of Desatio caught her eye, that seemed like a interesting story. The rotten, seedy, smelly folks who made up the rest of the crowd were much too familiar for Madd's liking.

Besides that, this man seemed to be smiling--and if you looked at his soccer dad like garb--he also seemed pretty harmless. Without a word to the psychiatrist, the girl sat down on a bar stool in his area--and quickly folded her legs over one another. The bellbottoms she currently wore did a very good job of obscuring theh ay like hair about the high-tops of her boots, but occasionally a strand snuck out.

In the dim light, the girl had to squint to read the menu--but she slowly went over it, her fingers tightly grasping the money in her pocket.

--

The Mightenya stretched out at her side, rage glowing in his eyes as he watched the haughty little bitch quickly order without so much as a :
"How do ya--"
To him . .what a self-absorbed brat.
"Hey Mummy man . . what's this palces food like?"
The canine muttered, turning his shaggy head to glance at Desatio.

Up above his trainer finished her order, but pretended not to notice the rudeness of her Mightenya; it was too much trouble to scold him . .not to mention useless.

[desatio]

Desatio sighed. "'Name's Michael. Next time you call me mummy-boy, prepare to dodge my fist.""With that, he smiled as his scotch arrived, and he put a bit more than the price on the table. "Keep the change, I'm glad you didn't chase me out of here," he said with a chuckle.

As much as he hated to admit it, this was the first bar in town that didn't politely ask him to leave so that he wouldn't "disturb" the other customers.

He sipped his scotch thoughtfully before he finished talking to the creature next to him. He had seen a Mightenya before, but to be honest, he was more acquainted with houndooms and houndours on the whole. "And to answer your question, I don't know about the food here. It's my first time as well."

Then he noticed the redhead. She was kinda cute, in that reckless sort of way. A little young for him, though. He tapped is ring once, an alert to Sackeim to listen to what's going on. The small gem, glowing a fiery orange from Sackeim's presence, made a small, barely visible twinkle as a signal of response. That was as close as the small living lightning bolt ever got to nodding, a hard trick without a neck.

Desatio then nodded to the lady, "Your buddy here always this charming? Or does he have his mean moments, too?" he mused in an odd little tone, a mix of friendly cheer and sarcastic wit that could probably cut through a tree if he wanted to.

[Madd]

At the rather half-assed warning, the Mightenya rolled his eyes--and in a slihgtly teasing tone replied:
"No need to get your bandages in a damn bunch Mike."
A slight frown creased his muzzle--wrinkling it in a mock snarl, what kind of threat was that? Bastard--threatening him.
Deep within his mind a primitive, reckless voice--his own-- urged him to take this odd man up on his offer, and 'meet Mike's fist'. It would be soemthing to do, other then watch drunk folks party; hell he doubted he would get so much as a bowl of water out of this little excursion. The chink of glass meeting countertop was heard, as the little shot of scotch was handed to Desatio--who smiled, and handed over some extra cash.
"Someone took his happy ignorance pill this fuckin' morning."
Pulling out extra cash in a place like this--and waving it around like some kind of flag.

The still smiling (which seemed offensive to Yakuza) mummy man, answered the canine's question, in a utterly useless manner.
"Fat lotta help ya are . ."
The canine was also slightly annoyed that Mike had a drink, and he didn't even have sweat to lick off the floor. Did humans not know how hot it was under all this fur?

Turning away from Mike with a snort, the Mightenya assumed a sphinx like position, his shaggy head laying across his crossed paws, and his muscles tensed. Occasionally a rather loud noise would cause his head to drift up--only after Madd got his drink did he rise back to a dutiful sitting position.

---

The crystal cut glass now lay on the counter before Madd's lengthy fingers. The dim lights of the bar sent orange lights flickering over the cup's surface. Wrapping her hands around the little shot glass, Madd raised it to her mouth; a gruff voice interrupted her:
" ' ey that's for me right bitch?"
Madd hesitated, before her smirk enlarged, and spread across her face.
" Yeah--okay."
Down below, the greedy eyes of her Mightenya seemed to glow over his victory. Just as he opened his muzzle to laugh--his trainer dumped the little glass over, sending clear fiery liquid raining toward the ground.

Instantly a storm of yelps and whimpers erupted from near the girl's stool--as the alcohol splattered on the Mightenya's face. The liquid scorched his corneas--turning his eyes a irritated crimson. The fiery whiskey was inahled through his nose, causing a intense burning sensation as he tried to cough it back up. The rest of it dripped from his shaggy head--dripping from his hollowed face to the ground. The canine's paws furiously pawed at his face--in a futile attempt to calm the raging pain.

Up above, the girl laid the empty cup on the counter; trying her best to ignore the wimpy canine's whining. Eventually it stopped---and was immediately followed by this rage filled comment:
"You.. .you...YOU! When we get out of her you corner-loving whore, I am going to rip your arms off!"
"Whatever--you asked for it, and if you would have been more polite I would have let you have a damn drink."
Sometime between the dumping of the spirits, and the Mightenya's fit, a crisp bill had wormed its way onto the counter.

---

The rather rude Mightenya became a lump of cold rage, and violent thoughts as Madd turned to speak to Mike.

A slight sparkle caught her eyes, and the girl found herself staring at the ring.
"Interesting piece of bling ya got there Mike."
It was a rather odd ring.


A chuckle emerged from the girl's throat--as Mike sarcastically commented on the stewing Mightenya.
"Yaku mean--why the very thought is shocking. Actually he is a whiny little bastard . . ."
The girl seemed to be having fun taunting the Mightenya. Call it vengeance for all snide comments about her mother's sexual preferences.
" I'm Madd by the way, and this useless lump of mutt is Yakuza."
The girl quickly introduced, before gesturing toward the tattered bandages encasing Mike's body.
"You just get out of the auditions for "Cleopatra's Revival"?"
This was a much politer way of speaking about the bandages the Yakuza--but still rude as all hell.

With the smirk, and friendly tone--it didn't seem meant to offend though.

Then again . .

The girl thought the truth was never offensive.

[desatio]

He laughed, it was a surprisingly loud kind of laugh, the sort of thing that sounds more like a bellowing giant than most anything else. He smirked. "The Ring is something they gave me when I graduated from college. Oh, and your next drinks--for both of you--are on my tab. Seeings as that's the first original line about these rags I've heard since I've landed on this region, I suppose some hospitality is in order."

He then turned towards the Mightenya. His tone seemed both frank and serious. "I'm not oblivious. The reason behind these bandages is that my real face got burned to bits a long time ago. I got a Magmortar who felt like blasting everything to kingdom come, and I was in the wrong damn place at the wrong damn time. I was dead for ten minutes, according to the doctors. Truth is, it was a damn miracle I wasn't incinerated to the bone like his other two victims. I'm happy because I ain't dead. That's enough for me."

He nodded to the next drink to land beside him. "The next ones for them are on me as well," he said with a shrug, returning to a softer, friendlier tone, the kind you'd happily bank with. "Long and short is that my burnt and battered hide tends to crack and bleed sometimes, and it ain't pretty. So I'm better off with the bandages, trust me. So, now you heard my story, what about you, Miss Madd? You don't have the same accent, so what are you doing in this warzone?"

[Madd]

At the bellowing laugh, Madd's eyes cast a cautious glanced about the bar--watching for wandering eyes. No doubt they would want in on some of the fun . . or what they thought was 'fun'. Most of the patrons however were too busy snoozing in their drinks to glance over, and the rest merely shrugged. The girl's eyes were now narrowed behind her flame-colored goggles, as she watched for anymore over-the-top behavior from 'Mike'. At the answer the girl rolled her shoulders in a shrug, and leaned back against the rough countertop. Listening in silence as the Pravus-fellow spoke.
"Great--now she's gonna think she's fuckin' good at somethin'.."
The Mightenya beneath his trainer's feet mumbled, in too much pain to come up with anything better.
A combat boot delivered a gentle kick to the Mightenya's side, silencing him.
" Don;t go getting too hospitable Mikey, someone might just take advantage of that. Especially if ya give drinks away for smart-ass comments."
The much younger lady's tone was frank, and honest--not at all threatening.
"But, thank you for the drinks--my last one was wasted because my mutt can't hold his whiskey."
Frankly, she was amazed that this man had not scolded her for drinking things like that at such a 'young' age. Judging buy his clothes (bandages excluded--) he was some kind of tight-snob.
"But . .college . . .whatcha go for?"
College? That was something she was supposed to do, before she found the fun-times at Rocket irresistible. Now, here she was talking to some guy who could have been her in the future. The girl's eyes roved over the tightly wrapped body again, and she couldn't resist a low whistle.

It appeared education did not guarantee safety in life, as her parents had commonly spoke.

---

The Mightenya was shocked, when the man just blurted out his story. It was shown by his widened eyes--and slightly agape muzzle. In this place, people kept secrets--but here was this loser handing them out like candy.
"Hrmph, what fuckin' idea wouild make ya jump in front of one of those ugly bastards . . dumbass."
Normally he would have laughed at the fellow being hit at all . .but he had sympathy about being burnt. Damn Magcargo at home was always scorching his tail, and such.

The girl murmured a reply:
"I hope that Magmortar got what he had coming . . ."
It was not the idea of vengeance for Mike that propelled her to say that, but instead the fact that she herself would wish vengeance for something like that. In fact-she did want revenge at Bug for turning her into . .

Well . .this glitchy ass morph.

" I knew someone who got in a similar situation to you--but she ain't smiling, and laughing no more. . . even if she is alive."
Frankly, Madd was not a optimist--but being alive was better then being dead, so she could sympathize.


---

The girl's elbow landed on the counter, as her head tilted downward to meet her open palm.
"Lotsa things in the world ain't pretty--but i guess ya don't want to go getting gooey flesh everywhere.. probably hell to clean up."
"Better then cleaning up your messes. ."
Another kick, a friendly little smile--and more silence from the pained Mightenya.

At the question, the girl stiffened--caution growing in her mind. Why this friendly man in such a seedy place? Was it not true that smiling faces were just as dangerous as scowling ones? In a hesitant manner, the girl managed a vague explanation of:
"I come from Johto--that's why the accent don' fit."
Some people were not quite so forthcoming with their secrets.
"by the way--drop the miss. Tis Madd."
Alright, it was Madilyn--but fuck that name.

[soap]

He smirked. "I'm a therapist. I went to school so I could help people. I can talk just about anybody down." He thought about that for a minute, smiling. "The Magmortar was the only time I couldn't talk someone down. Poor thing, he was drugged out to the point where he thought everything was an enemy. We couldn't contain him, so we had to kill him, sadly. His trainer cried a lot. I spent a lot of time talking with her and letting her cry."

He then listened for a bit, nodding slightly. "Madd, if anyone wants a piece of me, they can definitely give it a shot. Just because I dress well and talk politely doesn't mean I can't knock somebody's teeth out for screwing with me. Or I can just fry 'em."

He smirked, listening to the girl talk about herself. "This girl who doesn't laugh much probably doesn't cry much either. There's two reasons for that, but knowing them doesn't change them unless the girl wants it to change." He chuckled at the whistle. The last time anybody whistled at him, for anything...it had been a while.

"Madd ain't a half-bad name. Reminds me of this girl I knew in college. That was her nickname, Mad Rachel, the wild child of Dorm 8," he said with a laugh. "I do wonder how she is these days."

He then noticed how she stiffened. "Sorry didn't mean to pry. I'm a little too curious sometimes. We all got bad habits, I guess.." he then sipped some more scotch. "Still, you seem kind of young to be in a dive like this. Although, I suppose I don't exactly look normal myself."

As if on cue, a man spoke up from behind "And since you don't fit in, why the hell are you here?"

Desatio didn't blink or turn around. "The same reason you're here. To get a decent drink at a decent price."

The man stepped up, signaling a few of his friends over. "And what if I said I'd rather kick your sorry ass out of this bar?"

Desatio considered this. "Are you the bouncer?"

"No."

"Is it your bar?" Desatio continued.

"Like I'd run this place?"

Desatio's smile seemed to twist slightly, his eyes almost sparked. "Then I would say you're a dick, I have just as much a right to drink as you, and you have one chance to avoid having to pick up pieces of your nose off the floor this evening."

The men got ready to fight, and the first one walked towards him, smacking him in the head. Desatio didn't move at all--not even a flinch in Reflex. He slowly turned around. "Madd, would you pardon me? It appears this man would like to fight me."

He turned around slowly, snapped his fingers, the orange glow jumping off the ring and into a nearby sound system, playing "You may be right" by Billy Joel. "Last chance to run," Desatio said cooly.

[Madd]

(--Madd was talking truly referring to a friend..but that's fine~)

From her relaxed position, the girl listened to Mike's replies, and chuckled at his answer to her college question.
" A typical wannabe philanthropist."
Madd drawled in reply, her smirk tugging further up into a form of a teasing smile.
" How do you get people to sit in your office . . .Mikey? Might make the crazies thing they went a little more loco."
Lifting a hand, she waved in the general direction of the mammoth man. Frankly, she doubted people with anxiety issues would truly . . trust him anymore.
"It Must really put a wrench in things . . looking like that."
Like something from a B-rated mummy movie to be exact, but no doubt Mike knew that.

The Mightenya beneath the stool said nothing--drawing a surprised glance from Madd--and a snide remark:
"Aww..does the big mummy man scare the little puppy?"
A few ridiculous whimpers emerged from the girl's mouth, before the canine turned to her with a snarl:
"Shut. The. Fuck. Up. Or I'll turn you into a fuckin' mummy !"
"Like to see ya try puppy-wuppy."
At Mike's next comment, the girl abandoned the harmless verbal banter:
" Oh--they'll do a lot more then knock a few teeth out."
The girl didn't doubt this man could fight--but truthfully she doubted he knew what fighting 'dirty' truly meant.

As the educated fellow provided his opinion on her friend--Madd shrugged, arcing hr torso over the counter--a length of hay colored fur spilling from her boots.
" All I know is that she whines. . whimpers . . and serves like some slave. Damn little brat needs to buck up and get over it."
"All folks aren't as thick headed as you."
Another gentle kick--and a quiet scuffle, as the canine attacked the girl's thick leather boots. A muffled yelp erupted from the Mightenya's maw--as his fangs met her steel-toed boots, drawing blood from his sensitive gums.

--

Later . . Later . .the bitch would pay later--when she was drunk, and sleepy.

--

"Hmm. Sounds like someone I'd like to get to know."
"Maybe you can work the corner together."
The young girl rolled her eyes, and tilted her head to fix a steely gaze on her canine.
"One more comment--and this steel toe is getting shoved right up ya ass."
But . .Mad Rachel? Maybe this guy knew more kinds of people then she was giving him credit for.

At the apology, Madd waved it away--before slipping her hand into her vest and drawing out a cigarette.
" I don't care--"
One glance at the addictive little stick, and the girl let out a sharp laugh.
"Bad habits. .bad habits all..."
The girl's eyes examined the counter for ashtrays, and lighters, and finding herself unsatisfied, stuffed the cellophane pack back into her pocket.
"Bah--a little young . .what's age gotta do with it? If they let people who smell of illicit drugs in here--then why not a harmless young girl with a puppy?"
Besides that, girls attracted business here. . .at least it did in most bars she knew.

The approach of the other man was obvious as day to Madd--unlike Mike, she was turned to observe the entire bar. Her eyes however appeared to be closed, her eyes falling over the sight obscuring goggles.
"Blah--blah--blah . . just kick him already Mikey--and send the drunk ass back to his little slumhole. Doubt he could the word 'reason' in the damn dictionary."
The girl's posture was the very image of insolence. The girl's legs were folded over one another in a provocative manner, her back arched--and her head thrown back, seeming to look at the ceiling rather then the drunk ass and his friends.

Underneath however, her entire bodyu was one mass of tension--her splayed hands now clenched into dangerous weapons.
"I'd beat his ass for ya . .but he'll probably trip over his clumsy ass feet before he swings a fist."
A few of the men let out various cruel names--which Madd ignored, looking like a sun tanner on a beach.

In fact this was not too far from the truth. In places where true human nature was obvious , was where she felt the most comfortable.

---

As the glow zoomed into the juke-box--the poised-ready-to pounce , Mightenya let out a sharp bark, before running headlong toward the jukebox. The music was drowned out by the frenzied noise, as the Mightenya's senses kicked into overdrive.

There was something in here . . .!

--

"Ooh. . atmosphere."
The girl began to whistle along, raising from the barstool- and jarring the nearest thug with her shoulders.

[desatio]

Mike smiled and simply looked at this entertaining mess. "Listen here, you overgrown ugly summabitch! We're gonna bash you're head in if you don't get the hell out of here, and your little friend, well she's jsut one more c-Gyaaaagh!!"

Desatio smiled, now holding the man's wrist behind his head in a decent twist, smiling. "On your knees, and apologize. To her. Just because she's here doesn't mean she deserves to take that crap from some half-wit like you."

"I Ain't apologizin' to no God-damned Bi--Yearrgh!!!" The man howled as Mike twisted again.

"What you fail to understand is that I can dislocated your shoulder with one wrong twist. And don't struggle, it'll make me twist the wrong way. No tell her you're sorry, and that you should know better than to call a woman names."

Unfortunately, the man behind them decided to get a jump on Desatio, grabbing him from behind and aiming for a chokehold. "Wait your turn," he muttered as he pulled the first man's arm, dislocating it and making him yelp in pain, and then fell backwards, using the idiot on his back to break his fall. Of course his fall was just as likely to break the man, but that's what you get with a chokehold. A few others pulled out knives, more than one of them glaring at the girl as well.

"Knives? Alright then," he said as he pulled a small syringe form his back pocket. "I'm afraid I'll have to sedate a few of you young men, for your own safety," he said as he grabbed one and jammed the needle into his shoulder. "Sleep well, dumbass," he said as he looked at the rest. "I'm out of anesthetic, I'll just have to knock you out the old-fashioned way, by knocking your block off."

[Madd]

Madd listened to the first man, as he idiotically threatened the much larger man; without moving out of range. The fact that he didn't move far enough away was evident as the dirty-scruffy, alcoholic of a man let out a loud scream, and in the shadows of the bar counter the girl's little smirk expanded into a full grown grin.
"Why--I'm just one more cultured little lady? Why thank you , all i can say about you is that you are a intellect lacking fool--which is a compliment."
The girl's mouth was turned toward the ceiling, she didn't even seem concerned enough about the men surrounding her to glance in their direction.

For once, Madd allowed someone else to do her dirty work--basking in it like a queen on a throne. A very rickety, three-legged, uncomfortable, questionably clean throne--but you get the picture.
"Twist him anyway--bastard can't keep his mouth shut. But, I do love being compared to his mother, such a sweet fellow."
Honey-laced sarcasm dripped from her words as Madd finished her statement.

"But Mr. Mikey if it's bad to call women names why did ya call him a half wit?"
In all truth, the names did not bother her--that was how she used to talk with her friends. Doing this however--was immensely entertaining. Then the obvious sound of two bodies colliding, caused the girl to open her eyes--just in time to see a much scrawnier man attempt to muscle his way around Mike's mammoth neck. The girl's head slowly dipped until it lay on her chest--and her eyes flashed beneath her goggles.
"Get in a nice little line ladies--so Wrestling mummy-Mike here can kick ya ass."

The glint of metal drew the girl's eye:
"Steel--a thugs best friend!"
Normally, she would have some sort of bat on her, but she wasn't wearing the kind of clothes where she could stuff it down her pants.

However--this little thugess was not completely defenseless. As Mike pulled out a syringe, Madd's right boot hooked around the bottom rung of Mike's previous seat--and with a release of Pokemon-powered muscles, sent the rickety thing flying into the crowd of knife wielding fools.
Splinters and wood burst outward in a explosion, as the stool collided with the men, peppering them with stinging splinters--and blinding sawdust.

The half full shot glass went next--cracking the nearest drunkard upside the head.
"Maybe that'll sober ya ugly ass up !"
The girl returned her feet to the floor--and dropped her cocked arm back into her lap--before whistling innocently.


At the sight of the syringe-stabbed man dropping--a horrid memory caused a shiver to roll through the girl's body.

A friendly grin . . .teal eyes--turning into a wicked smirk, and money filled hands. The glint of a needle behind her bright-wispy hair--shock roaring through her mind, pain and blackness. DAMN BUG!

Hopefully one of these bastards would come after her--a few kicks upside someone else's head would do her some good. Or at least make her forget Bug's ugly ass face.

--

The Mightenya let out a wild howl, smashing his shaggy head into the glass. Like a moth to a flame however, the struggle drew the canine, and he dropped back to the floor. Tight, lean muscles leaped--and jumped as the Mightenya barreled across the floor. A ear-splitting snarl erupted from his mouth as he pounced, landing on a rather scrawny knife-wielder with claws splayed. Fangs clamped about thick fabric, as the violence loving mutt attempted to get to the man's flesh.

[desatio]

Mike nodded at Madd. "Yeah, but he earned it for acting like a half-wit. I don't mind when someone calls me ugly, either. Truth is far from soemthing I dislike." As much as he didn't usually admit it, that was the one problem he had with most rich folks and academics. They never could be honest with themselves

Mike Laughed as another punk fell. "C'mon guys, I as hopin' for a workout. maybe one of you guys has a Mankey I can tango with? Or at least one of you that could take a few hits..."

Sackeim kept jamming on the jukebox. He was enjoying the show, but he decided it'd be best to wait for others to start throwing down. After all, he didn't see any fair fights, and if Mike wanted to take 'em all, he probably could.

Mike picked up another man and threw him at his buddies "Catch!" He then cold-clocked one poor sucker, and smirked, grabbing him and waltzing gracelessly to the chorus, using his unconscious "partner" as a shield and weapon, Singing along loudly.

"You may be right," he bellows as he clothslined one man,
"I may be craaaazay," he drug out the note while swing the man by his arms, causing his legs to flail and kick to people,
"But it just my be a lunatic you're looking for...." He said, throwing the man back into the brawl.

"So turn out the lights," he said as clocked one man over the head with a bar-stool,
"Don't try to save me," he yelled with a laugh, watching as one guy bashed another stool over his head,
"You may be wrong, but then again," he turned around and backhanded him stool-breaker,
"YOU MAY BE RIIIIGHT!!!!"

After that, there was a Saxophone solo and a sound of smashing glass. And chaos, lots of chaos. "I bet you weren't expecting a dead guy to lead you into a bar-fight tonight, eh Madd?"

[Madd]

Madd passively listened as the therapist spoke, her lips quirking at the irony of the current situation. This fellow was a mediator--Madd found that rather hard to believe as she watched him smashing fists into people's faces.
" A lot of people cannot handle the truth--and poor halfwit here doesn't seem like one of those folks who can."
It was nice that Mike did not seem to care when the truth was told; that was another check on the 'Slightly Likeable' list.
"Glad to hear y don't mind being called ugly Mikey--makes conversations a lot easier."
If you had not figured it out yet, our dear Ms. Madd liked to be blunt--and for the most part as truthful as her uncle.

If he could 'handle the truth', then she could not see any incident coming up that would cause a fight.

-----

As the fighting escalated farther into one-sided, Madd occasionally let out a little golfer clap, grinning at the sheer comedy of flailing limbs, and flying idiots.
" I want a workout . .but at this right there'll be nothing for me to so much as jump rope with."
Another battered bar stool shattered into saw dust, as Mike smashed it into one of the idiot's hard-ass heads.

Halfway through, Madd's feet began tapping against her own little seat--and her feminine voice joined in with Mike's husky singing.

The girl's eyes slid to the left behind her goggles--not to see a angry barkeep, but instead a music engrossed man spinning shot glasses to the beat of the tune. It appeared that in a place like this good old chat was not enough to be immensely entertaining, but a many on one barfight was.
"Their like roaches Mike . .careful afore they do your bandaged ass some damage . ."
The more people he clocked, the more that began restlessly stirring in their seating.

--

Running a gloved-hand through her uneven hair, Madd lay her boots on the ground--before sauntering over to the nearest knife-wielder. The overwhelming stench of alcohol flooded her senses, soon followed by the onion-sweet sense of unwash--body odor. The man turned slowly to look at the girl--well look at her chest area--and chuckled. If the scent of him with his mouth closed was appalling then the stench of him with it open was gut wrenching. Madd merely smiled back, before drawing back her right fist--and sending it flying into his bulbous nose. Blood spurted from it as veins popped--and bones shifted beneath her muscular fist.
"Watch where your looking . . dick-wad."
Then the smelly man fell to the floor amid his own stink, and Madd drew her blood-covered fist across her pants leg, wincing as the nasty stuff stained her scruffy pants.

As if in afterthought, the girl reached down and plucked the blade from between his clenched fingers--careful to hold her breath.
"Ah--but in Remoor, you can expect almost anything Mike!"
The girl yelled back to the therapist. You could expect anything,, especially in a place like this.

--

The man beneath Yakuza threw him back amid a slash of blade and much swearing. Long bloody gashes trailed down his shirt front--as well as a few shallow bite marks. With the appearance of a prowling cat, the Mightenya began to circle--and size up his opponent.

--

[desatio]

Mike laughed a little. "Nice to see you can actually swing a fist. I though It was just gonna be little old me soling the room," he said with a grin as a man swung a bottle, which he proceeded to grab from the man's hand. "Don't waste good rum," he said as he downed a bit, smirking wildly, and then left the bottle on the bar.

"Wasting good hooch, if you're gonna whack me, use an empty bottle, you morons," He said, his grin widening slightly. "Next," he said laughing as fellow bigger than him came up.

These two large men starting throwing punches, and after about five, the bigger one was on the ground and Mike was smirking. "Finally, some body with some endurance. I guess you can take the fighter out of the ring, but the ring doesn't leave the fighter, yeah?" He then took an old boxing pose, kissed left fist and smirked. "Anyone here not suck at fighting? Aside from the girl, I mean..."

One man obliged by throwing a pokeball, out of which came a very upset looking Makuhita who began to tackle into him. Mike caught the little bugger, grunted and twisted around to throw him. "Nice, that one made me feel my age, gonan throw soem big ones at me?"

[Madd]

At the humor-tinted statement, Madd's lips quirked downward slightly--before turning back into her trademark smirk. In all likelihood, she truly doubted that Mike meant to sound amazed, sexist, and condescending. The sharp retort that would normally have rolled off her tongue was replaced with a feminine giggle and a shifting of position:
" I can do more then punch Mammoth Mikey . . ."
Sliding her right foot behind her left, the girl dropped down in a half crouch, before lashing out with a tremendous kick at the nearest thug. A streak of hay colored hair streamed behind her deadly boot--resembling golden flames. A delightful crack, and then a even more delightful thump.

Folding her arms into a praying position--Madd watched as the mans head snapped to the right, and he fell to the floor amid a puddle of drool. Prodding him gently with a thickly-shod boot, the girl shrugged--just as a hambone fist swung into her midsection. The tightened muscles of her abdomen tightened, and helped stop the blow--but it still left her doubled over gasping for breath.

As the big burly drunk next to her raised a fist--a black shadow barreled into his back, knocking him away, and over the prone men on the floor. Ice-blue eyes glowed like wild fire, as the canine swiped a claw at the man's face--before clenching his crushing jaws around the ugly man's nose tip.

The girl straightened her body--and flashed a smile at Mike.
" At least none of these idiots waste good booze on a girl."
Rolling her shoulders, and ignoring a growing pain in her abdomen, Madd watched as Mike disposed of the Makuhita.
"Look Mike--don't let the rum go to ya head, you're going way v\overboard--they might pull out more then knives and chubby amateur boxers."
Frankly, Madd wished to be cautious--sure steamrolling a room full of thugs may be fun . . .but one had to be careful.

After all--there were a lot more to be afraid of then drunks with sloppy punches. Most of these drunks lacked whatever moral code they normally had . . and would likely pull out all the stops if they felt further threatened. These sloppy punches were escalating into knives, bottles, and now , , , pokemon.

For once madilyn Elle Brown was forced to be the voice of rational thought; just because Mike had not yet been hit did not guarantee him immunity from fists.
"I like fighting as much as the next boxer--but . . you are being a idiot; punch em out if they hit you, but don 't tease them. Men have ego issues."
Frank, to the point, and extremely harshly--that was how Madd spoke when she wished to get a point across.

With a mouth full of torn skin--ad blood--the Mightenya rolled off the moaning man, just as the air nearby exploded in red light.

A Hariyama now loomed over the bar, his tri-fingered fists curled into deadly weapons at his sides.
"Imma kick your ass man.":
The creature bellowed, as it stomped across the room.

[desatio]

Mike nodded. "I'm sure you're quite talented in many ways, but I don't like fighting young women. I'm too old for that anymore," he said as he cold-clocked another man. He frowned. That one was bout to to pull out maybe a gun.

He then heard the girl ramble. She was right. This wasn't Garth's dojo filled with dumb young punks. This was a bar filled with well-armed dumb young punks. That was a substantially more unpleasant and dangerous scenario.

He frowned as he saw the amount of blood on his hands. He needed to coll off, and figure out a way to get this done quickly. He seemed to mouth something akin to the words "goat in my hell, time to fry" towards the jukebox, which suddenly stopped playing.

With that, the lights flickered twice. Then the Hariyama lumbered over to Mike, hollering something. "Some other time. I've had enough of a work-out."

Mike whistled as a bolt of orange lightning blasted from the light fixture above him, course through the Hariyama, and hopefully paralyzing him. that's how thunder wave attacks were supposed to work, anyhow. Mike then made a mammoth leap over the bar and slid to where Madd was. "We should get out of here before they bring in guns or something like that. I'm not very good with gunshot wounds," He said, gesturing towards the door. "After you," he said smirking slightly.