open/closed ][ I should not be left to my own devices

[bealufull]

Who: Kaz Brekker & open
When: March
Where: Cadens & Horizon
What: catch all for post event stress, open posts in comments
Warnings: violence, bar fights, the damage of such fights, gambling, likely excessive drinking, talk of body horror, vicious mockery including taunting others about weight and looks





𝐈'𝐦 𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥

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[bealufull]

Kaz grew up on the streets of the Barrel. He isn't a so called king, no mercher blood, and nothing to him but anger, spite, and violence. And brilliance. It's something he's been facing here as the others assure him he doesn't have to be the Bastard of the Barrel and his hands don't have to remain dirty.

He's just not sure that's him.

After all they've been through, he needs this. He needs to feel in control. And he is, more than many might know. He's taken more beatings than many having taken baths, and he gives as good as he gets between tenacity, years of fights, and a beautifully weighted Durast designed cane.

From the movement of others, he's aware he's not the only one in the fights, carefully watching those around him though before putting his focus on anyone else there around him. Through those shifting though, he catches sight of a familiar face, a brow quirking at that but not taking the time to focus on her yet. Not as one gloved fist connects solidly with another's jaw and he turns on one heel and clocks another upside the head with the gilded crow cane.

"Now now. Are you trying to steal my good time," he challenges, his words thick from the hits he's taken and yet there's a lightness to those words at the same time.

[earthborn]

"Plenty to go around, don't be selfish," She replies, cocksure and casual, fists up in a boxer's guardas she steps back from the wild flailing produced by the wet thock-impact of his cane. The man goes down and doesn't come back up again, the back of his head suspiciously shiny; scalp wounds always do bleed like a bitch. More relevantly, it produces an opening as the crowd, both observing and participating, pulls back from the impact, oddly dainty, "Besides—"

Necessity makes a hesitation, and she pauses to duck a thrown table-leg, stepping over sprawled limbs and splinters with a glance for the footing. It's winding down, if only for lack of continued participants— It's sad, really. But for everything bright and joyful there's always that unfortunate bite of after-climax. Alas, the real world always comes 'round eventually.

But not yet.

"...I'm not even trying," Shepard lunges towards the man with the club, driving the air out of him and throwing him bodily towards Kaz. You hungry for more, kid? Fine, have another, eat until you've had enough.