516/Biker Biker Biker

Biker Biker Biker
Date of Scene:	14 March 2020
Location:	Local Dive Bar
Synopsis:	BAR FIGHT!
Cast of Characters:	Melissa Gold, Alexander Aaron, Heidi Ingerdottir

---

Melissa Gold has posed:
    It's girls' night out. Plus Alexander. So call it the Three Amigos' night out. And where does Melissa take her friends? To her favourite dive bar hangout.
    It's not quite so homey as usual, though, as a local gang has decided to make it their new hangout. Going by the name "Coyotes" they litter the place, making noise, and driving out the regulars even as they take "free samples" that are pitcher-sized or bottle-sized.
    Scum, in short.
    Mel, chatting away, enters the place and doesn't even really notice the change. She didn't come here to socialize after all. She just heads to a table and flips a chair around to straddle it, the back in front of her against the table edge.
    "Hey, let's start with a pitcher each and go from there, K?"

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    Walking into the bar in the wake of the two women who roll on in, with Mel seeming to act like she owns the place. Which is fine with Alexander, for he is more one to just rent a place like this. Occasionally. For now, however, he strolls forth, slouching a little, features tilted curiously as those bright hazel eyes consider the room, the people, the...
    Bartender who is giving him the stink-eye after Mel announces their intentions. "I... can't really drink, Mel."
    His lip twists as he pulls out a chair and drops into it at that central table, not really paying attention to the others near him. He lifts his chin, "I sorta just enjoyed a sample of Heidi's mead that one time. But if I'm gonna be all chaperone and stuff, I should prolly keep my senses about me."

Heidi Ingerdottir has posed:
One day she would have a better palate for Midgardian ale. Heidi glances between Alexander and Mel. "A pitcher will work." She can certainly finish it, even if the flavor isn't as impressive as anything Asgard has. Midgard: Great Food, Shitty Alcohol. "Do you normally drink a pitcher?" She doesn't know that regular Midgardian tolerances were to alcohol, other than that little experiment with the mead.

She does, however, notice that the gang seems to be lurking around. She's not too worried about them, as they haven't caused any problems yet, but she's aware that there's something. She looks to Alexander. "I would not worry too much." She seems to find it amusing that anyone would have to chaperone /her/.

Melissa Gold has posed:
    "Yeah, c'mon, Alex, live a little! At least a have a tall glass with us!" Mel punches Alex fondly in the shoulder. "And if that's enough, that's enough. No judgement here." There's TOTALLY judgement. You can see it in her barely-concealed smirk. It's behind the smitten expression.
    "Hey, Heidi, you're with me, right?"
    A crowd of the Coyotes is brewing over in the corner, looking at the three strangers just walking in and sitting in the midst of the bar without paying them any mind. This apparently discombobulates them. Glares are being tossed their way between bouts of conversations about 'taxing' and 'protection' and 'user fees' for 'their bar'.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    Sidelong toward Heidi, Alexander grins and leans forward against the table. "Oh, you wouldn't worry? How many times have you been out drinking with Mel? 'Nuff said." But he winks a little and then turns his attention back to Mel, just in time to get a bop to the shoulder which causes him to crinkle his nose at her.
    "I'll maybe have a little, but the bartender's already marked me as underage I'm thinking." He offers that insight as he slips his hoodie off his shoulders and letting it rest on the back of his chair. There's no flash to his dress today, nothing exciting beyond that he's wearing black leather shoes instead of sneakers, and his t-shirt is a solid black in color without some cute advert or image.
    "Though I could go for some nachos." He looks around to the others, inquiring with that glance if they'd join him.

Heidi Ingerdottir has posed:
"Of course, Mel," the Asgardian offers, a bright smile offered. "I shall drink double since young Alexander will not drink his." She gives a shrug as if somehow to say 'take that' to Alex... despite the fact it's no real threat.

She does perk up at the mention of nachos though. "Oh, let's get some nachos. I liked those a lot." Heidi did have a lot of fun with the nachos last time, though she didn't go to war with Alex over them like she did with the chicken tender and the garlic bread.

Melissa Gold has posed:
    "Hey, there," Mel calls out, without even bothering to check who's serving. "Three pitchers of beer, a tall glass, and the party platter of nachos, double everything!"
    The sneering voice is not exactly pleasant. To put it mildly. One of the Coyotes, apparently a junior member, given his age and the general demeanour, like the chihuahua with the big bulldog in that old-timey cartoon, comes up to the table. "Listen, I think you guys forgot to pay the club dues!" he says, acting tough. "That's a hundred bucks. Each."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "If we get any food we need to get Heidi her own, since she steals." Alexander nods once solemnly and sits up, looking for the server, or waitress... or someone. Since nobody has come by yet to get their order. He glances again and looks over at the bar, then turns back to Mel and Heidi, "I'll go on over and..."
    But then Mel hollars and waves in the direction of the bar, placing her order, loud enough that it might block his hearing the intro of the chihuahua who appears next to their table so quickly.
    The youth perks up and then says, "Oh hey, sorry." He apologizes for Mel's shouting and tells the guy, "Yeah we were wanting three pitchers, and some nachos. And a tall glass?" He asks sidelong towards Heidi and Melissa, not sure what that is exactly if it's some bar slang or something.
    He looks around, "You guys want anything else?"

Heidi Ingerdottir has posed:
"Excuse me, you hoard all of the food in the first place, Alexander," Heidi looks towards the pair, Alexander getting a bit of a dirty look. "Besides, I only take the last piece... and only if you've already tried to get it." That's actually her rule... she's only stolen something if he'd gone for it first. How kind!

The flaxen-haired Asgardian glances over to the voice. "What is your club, and what are the benefits of its membership?" She folds her arms over her chest.

Melissa Gold has posed:
    "This bar, is our club," the guy says, confused at the reaction, being treated like a waiter by one and being asked questions by another. "The benefits is you get to stay here. And you gets to leave in one piece." He stares at the trio, clearly unsure of how to proceed before one of the others--senior member by appearances--says "Stop fuckin' around and get the dough man!"
    "Stop fuckin' around and give me the dough, man!" he proceeds to snarl. Then he stops and looks over his shoulder, indicating Mel and Heidi. "Ladies can get a discount," he says upon getting an encouraging nod and a knot of chuckles, "if they's good with their mouths."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    The young Olympian looks to the other two near him, first to Mel as he quirks an eyebrow as if about to say something. Then to Heidi as he uncurls a hand in her direction. Then straight ahead to both and he says, "I'm sort of in a different mood tonight." And that's all they'll likely get as warning as he turns back those hazel eyes focused upon the chihuahua, then the men behind him.
    And then he explodes out of his seat in motion. No hesitation, no hint of trepidation. One instant he is sitting there, presuming the man is a waiter, and then the next he's leaping across the table, legs slicing up over the side (barely missing Mel's head) as he closes that distance in one leap, grasping the man's head and continuing with that rush through the air...
    And then /slamming/ his head into the ground as if he were spiking a football. Yet he doesn't even stop moving then. All one movement, leap, head spike, then rush straight at the others.

Heidi Ingerdottir has posed:
Heidi was certainly going to give this guy a run for his money with trying to convince them to hand over cash. As the guys get more annoyed, however, she sighs, resigning herself to the fact that these 'gentlemen' are probably not going to take no for an answer. It's then that Alexander is... what. What is he doing. Did he just. what. Heidi watches, her head tilted to the side as she just /observes/.

"Well, that is a trick I have not seen before. Uh, have you seen this before Mel?"

Melissa Gold has posed:
    Mel, having been completely oblivious to all this at this point, is more shocked than Heidi at what happened.
    "Alex, what the actual...?" That's as far as she gets until the gang colours register and the conversation replays in her brain. Then she shakes her head in disbelief and just laughs.
    "See?" she says to Heidi conversationally, "He loves us both so much he's been triggered like a college kid at an abbatoir."
    How ... does she know that word?
    She leans back in her chair, putting her feet up on Alex's overturned one and watches. "Dammit, I wish I had popcorn!" she says.
    Over by Alex, the elder gang members aren't slouches in the fighting department and, though taken by quite a bit of surprise, are readying themselves when Alex flies into their midst, one of them pulling a knife, the butterfly variety that he skillfully deploys between the time the head hits the floor and Alex reaches the group.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    There's no real expression on Alexander's face as he closes that distance, running up a chair with a step, the next on the back of it that starts to tip it over but serves as enough of a jumping off point for him to leap into the air, the next stride being a single snapping kick with the toe of one leather shoe, /cracking/ hard against the knife-wielder's chin and sending him sprawling back with a split lip and what could well be a broken jaw. He lands at the feet of the fallen man even as a taller one /grabs/ hold of him from behind.
    It might be enough for an instant of concern before that man is /hefted/ almost effortlessly and thrown straight into two other gang members, sending the all flying into the wall with a heavy /whabam!/ that has chained wallets, and denim flying all over the place, bottles breaking and chairs shattering.
    A punch comes in and Alexander grabs the wrist of the man, pulling him into a knee, shattering the wrist with a twist and pulling him back into an elbow as if he were a yo-yo of violence.

    And as quick as that, there's a brief moment of peace.

Heidi Ingerdottir has posed:
"I cannot say I understand what he just did, but I am touched that he felt it necessary to look out for us," Heidi says with a firm nod. She glances back towards Alexander as he has his moment of peace, then looks back towards Mel. "I must say, I am going to have to be more careful not to piss him off too much with stealing his food. This is quite, uh... a thing."

Melissa Gold has posed:
    "I think what he did," Mel says, her voice having an odd tone to it that Alex would recognize, but probably not hear at the moment, while Heidi, who can hear it, would not recognize it, "is kicked their asses."
    The staggering brutality of Alexander's attack spreads like a wave of shock through the bar, but some of the larger, dumber members don't seem to get the message. A pair of them, enforcer types by their looks, brush by Heidi and Mel on their way to tackle Alex, one with a plumber's wrench in hand, the other just going with his fists.
    "Hey, 'Lex! Heads up!" she calls. "Incoming!"

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    A quick turn brings the two big guys into Alexander's line of sight, his hands coming up. His two partners in crime might well see Alex's eyebrow lift as he gauges their approach and what they're holding. The size of them one necessarily has to go in front of the other, and it just so happens to be the one with the fists held up at the ready.
    Alex breaks to the right, a few quick strides as he slips out of the way, leaping onto the table of one of those booths and possibly bringing people into the brawl even if they don't want to be. But it's in serving the purpose of the young Olympian grabbing the coat rack pole on the side of the booth and tearing it free, sending it hurling across that small distance to /whoo-whoo-whoo-WHAK!/ into the first big guy's head, sending him reeling and falling backward.
    It causes enough of a ruckus that when Alex steps in and snaps out a blurringly fast sidekick into the guy with the wrench, the hit connects solidly and ends up sending both of those two to the ground.

Heidi Ingerdottir has posed:
"Kicking asses does seem to be what he did." Heidi seems alright with observing her friend fight, though she does look more interested when the pair of enforcers make their way past. She looks to Mel for a moment. "I think he's got this, right?" It's not that she doesn't want to fight, it's that she doesn't want to /interfere/ with this particular fight at the moment.

Melissa Gold has posed:
    "It's like watching poetry in action, in't?" Mel asks, just wide-eyed with almost visible stars in her eyes. "What triggered that all of a sudden? I mean it's not like these guys could threaten me or you!"
    She glances, then, over to the bartender. "Hey, is our order comin'!?"
    The shell-shocked bartender just stares. "Three pitchers, tall glass, super party nachos, doubled everything," she repeats.
    "Anyway, Heidi, you tried tacos yet? 'Cause if you like nachos, I figure you'll love tacos."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    Once the men are down, Alexander looks around and lifts a hand to lightly count a little as if measuring how many of them there were, then sort of tilts his head to the side. Hands flaring he steps over to the larger one, the larger one that seemed to be giving orders, that the others seemed to use as their lead. He grabs that man by the collar, shaking him awake with one hand, then meets the man's eyes.
    "Take your friends and leave." And as he says that his eyes /flash/ to life with a silvery fire that is barely there for but a single instant, just long enough to flare the imagery of spectacle and horror into the mind of the man whom Alexander imagines is leading this particular gang of bikers. It's an image of such casual terror that likely summons what ill thoughts might be held so deep in the psyche of a man who makes his life with pure brutality....
    And enough to likely get him to lose control of his bladder in fear.
    That done, Alexander rises and steps back toward the table. He drops into his seat and then looks around, frowning. "Where are the nachos?"