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Sifting Through the Ashes (IC)


Thevshi

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NPC

"Keep your eyes sharp, Freddy..." whispered the Hound as he moved in on Ricky.

"Ricky, my man! fancy seeing you here!" he smiled, giving the toad a pat on the back. He slapped a few dollars on the bar and gave the barman a nod. "I'll have what he's having. And one for him too!" he said, casting an eye out on Fred.

Yes, true to form, Freddy was already ordering a Guinness further along, a couple of yards away. And not, he noticed, keeping an eye out on the bikers and heavies here.

"So, my little friend" he smiled at Ricky. "I could use a word from your silver tounge into my receptive earhole. A word or two about the burnings in the Fens. It struck me - a man of your perceptive qualities might have heard something interesting..."

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Ricky nearly jumped as the Hound came up to greet him and clapped him on the shoulder. A slightly relieved look came to his face as he recognized the Hound. "Oh, hey Harry. What are you doing here?" The bartender nodded and moved to get Ricky another drink and one for the Hound. "Oh, thanks." Ricky stated as the new drink was brought to him.

But his cheer faded at the Hound went on, bringing up the recent fires. "Fires? Why would I want to know anything about that?" The small man tried to lie, rather unconvincingly.

Further down the bar, Mess was taking a drink of his Guinness when he happened to glance up. Say what one would about this place, it certainly had a lot of reflective surfaces behind the bar. Right now those surfaces showed that a couple of guys that had been in a booth hidden from view at the front door had gotten up and were moving towards Mess. One had moved over to block the door, another a little closer and to Mess' left. The third was now right behind Mess. Another reflective surface to the right showed a fourth man who had come around another way, moving to Mess' right, and was between him and the Hound. All of them had the look of the mob.

Over where he was trying to get information from Ricky, the Hound had also spotted the men moving to surround Mess.

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Harry's eyes widened and shifted from left to right, scanning for exits where he could run to. He felt like a rat trapped in a corner.

"Come on, Ricky, my nose is telling me you know something..." he said to the weasel. "You and me, we don't want the Fens turning to ashes do we? This is serious, not some punks lighting up a quick thrill. Even you don't want this kind of heat. Can't run your scam's if its all up in smoke can you?"

Meanwhile, Freddy caught sight of what he presumed were mobsters. They looked like mobsters anyway. He downed his guinness in one swift moment and swivelled on his bar seat to take a good hard stare at them.

"If your' lookin' for trouble, you come to the right place...." he said, his voice as steady and heavy as his gaze. He clenched and unclenched his fist.

"Back off, and you get to keep your teeth..."

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Glancing around, Harry saw an emergency exit off to his right. The closest mobster to him was off to his left, having moved between Freddy and that exit.

Ricky seems to squirm slightly in his seat, but then slowly nods his head. "Okay, I have only heard a little. Really just a name." He stated in a low voice.

A short distance away, Freddy spun around to try to stare down the mobsters that were moving to surround him. The four stopped as he leveled his threat, but only one really seemed to be shaken by it.

The closest of the mobsters, the one who had been right behind Freddy, and was now directly in front of him, had a lopsided grin. He was by far the biggest of the four, possibly the result of some sort of enhancements. "You're the one who is looking for trouble Furlong. Showing your face around here." His large hands clenched into fists, as he was clearly not about to backdown.

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A few years ago, the Mess would have pounded the man to the ground just for looking at him funny. But that was then, this was now. Still, he felt the surge of adrenaline as he looked the man square in the eye.

He knew that, even without pumping up his blood, he could take down a common street thug without skipping a beat. Even without his strength and resilience, he was a skilled fighter. The men here gave him no pause for concern, but this large guy...he could cause some trouble. He looked larger, stronger, and more dangerous than most.

"I don't see any trouble" he answered. "Least ways, not for me..." he added "I fought bigger and harder than you..and your cronies..." he added. Part of him was itching for this guy to make a move...but as long as he wasn't going to bother Harry, that would do.

Meanwhile...

"I think times up for all of us" said Harry, with some urgency. "Ricky, gimme that name...before we get caught up in something ugly...."

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NPC

Screw this! Trouble has caught up with us!

Harry loosened his crumpled tie. He was half tempted to down the drink he had bought, but settled with gripping it tightly. He could, perhaps throw it in a tough guys face. Now that he thought about it, that pool cue looked very handy.

The bar was alive with the smell of sweat and stale drinks, all hitting his sensitive nose.

"Hey tough guy" he called out in a firm voice to the man between him and his partner.

"Yeah, you!" he added "I got a collection of broken teeth back home. Your's will make a fine addition to the set!" he bluffed. "I knocked out more molars than your mam's made hot dinners, my friend..."

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Meanwhile

The Mess may not have been smart, but he knew when a fight was happening, and it was happening now...

He had half a mind to let the guy take the first swing, but his instincts kicked in first - instincts from a hundred and more street fights.

I'll go gentle first... he added to himself. He could hit harder than any human if he wanted to do, his mutant blood powering his hard slabs of muscle. But for now, he would hit with just his normal strength. Which was still as hard as hell.

"Meet lefty!" he said, cool and hard as a diamond, as his big fist slipped into action...

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"Well, I hear the mob has started using this freelance guy, goes by the name.." Ricky began, before being cut off by the Hound turning to yell at the mobster that had moved between him and Mess.

The tough looking guy was clearly surprised to be challenged by someone behind him, and turned to look back at Hound, hesitating as he did so.

Further down the bar, Mess was already in action. Stepping in towards the large mobster, he delivered an expert left jab. The blow landed square on the large guys face, causing his head to snap back ever so slightly, but he quickly focused back on Mess, a faint grin coming to his face.

The other mobster who had been moving to flank Mess hesitated, unnerved by Mess' earlier threats. But the large mobster wasted little time in reaching forward to grab a hold of Mess. The street fighter tried to break free, but quickly found that the large man was clearly stronger than a normal human, as he maintained a grip like steel.

Taking a step back, the large man twisted, and sent Mess flying across the bar, over towards the sunken portion of the room. Mess came down on top of one of the pool tables, the legs of which gave way from the impact, bringing the entire table crashing down to the floor with Mess on top. Pool balls went off in all directions, as the bikers who had been using the table yelled out in surprise. "What the hell?"

The mobster who had been standing by the door watched the scene with slight amusement, before he focused back on the other man who Mess had intimidated. Moving forward, he grabbed the guy by the collar, shoving him towards the doorway. "You watch the door." He said, before he continued on towards the stairs that led down to the area where the pool tables where located.

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NPC

"Awww...come on!" yelled the Hound in desperation just as Ricky clammed up.

"I hate fighting...." he whimpered, but if there was going to be a bar room brawl, there was going to be a bar room brawl. The Mess could handle it...

....The Mess can handle it... he told himself as his partner got flung across the room. they would have hurt. Well, hurt most men. He knew his partner could take that and more, but even still...

He launched himself down to the pool tables.

"Go get em, Mess!" he said, picking up a cue and waving it around.

"I got ya' back!"

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Ricky dove under a table as Hound got up and rushed down the other stairs that led to the pool area. Ending up by the unbroken pool table, he was able to grab a pool cue off the rack. The patrons who had been playing around the unbroken table stepped back, not apparently ready or willing to get into the fight at this point.

Nearby, Mess was still lying on the broken pool table, slightly sore, but otherwise unhurt. Suddenly, the large form of a biker came into view, a pool cue raised up over his head as he yelled out, "you son of a..!" Swinging the improvised weapon down towards Mess. But the experienced fighter easily rolled to one side, the pool cue slamming down onto the cracked granite of the table.

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"What a knucklebuster!" swore Mess, as he got up. His back was a little sore, but he would live to fight another day. He didn't relish being hit over the head with a cue, however.

"The gloves are off now, buster!" he yelled, as he forced his superhuman blood to swell and pump around his body, turning it into a massive dynamo. His muscles swelled to the size of watermelons, his chest expanded and his t shirt ripped. He looked like some bloated sack of rocks, or a steroid body builder who had taken his profession a little too seriously.

Pumped up, like this, he had the strength of a hundred men. He wouldn't use this to break any normal two bit thug, but this guy - he was stronger than he had any right to be. And now, the Mess wouldn't hold back.

"I'm pumped up too, buddy!" he yelled as the final vein in his body swelled up, ready for action.

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The mobster that Mess had initially intimidated finished moving to block the front door, turning to look down towards where the fight had shifted after Mess had been thrown across the bar. Reaching into his jacket, the man pulled out a pistol which he kept pointed down for the moment.

Just as Mess got back up, boosting himself, the large mobster came leaping over the booths and ledge towards the metahuman private eye. "Good, I would hate to think this would be too easy!" He yelled, as he landed on the wrecked pool table, brining one of his large fists down towards Mess and connecting with a powerful blow.

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"In your dreams!" retorted Mess as the man charged him. "You'll never..."

Kapow!

Fred's Jaw took most of the blow. It would have taken a normal man's head off, but Fred could take the mightiest of punches.

Even so, he took a few steps back in surprise, an spat blood from a cut lip.

What the hell? That man is too strong! he said as his brain shifted gears and started clearing the cobwebs.

Whilst rattled inside, he kept a steely look at his opponent, not giving an inch.

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While Mess took a mighty blow from the large mobster, chaos continued to unfold within the bar.

Back up by where Hound had been sitting, the Mobster that Hound had initially distracted picked up a chair and took a step, flinging it across the room towards where the rumpled private eye was now standing with his improvised weapon. Though not the best fighter, Hound was rather skilled at getting out of the way of a punch, and he managed to duck underneath the improvised missile, though just barely.

Over by the other set of steps, one of the bikers that had been playing pool swung his pool cue at the mobster that was making his way down to the lower part of the bar. However, the attack was wildly off, the pool cue hitting a thin support column with a *THWAP*.

Back by the busted pool table, another of the bikers, this one not carrying a cue, took a swing at Mess, but his swing was easily blocked aside by the skilled fighter.

Now facing an enraged biker wielding a pool cue, the mobster that had been by the front door aimed a kick at the man, but it was poorly timed and missed its target as well.

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NPC

"Oh what the hell..." moaned Harry. He was a rat cornered in a cage, but he would be damned if he didn't go down fighting.

For all his cowardice, Harry had trod the streets long enough, and was smart enough, to know how to fight - he was actually pretty good at it. It just happened that his preferred method of fighting was to run away and ask someone else to do it for him.

But, if cornered.

"I got your back, Freddy!" he called out, and with a surprising burst of speed, took a few steps and swung the cue bat full circle at the nearest mobster.

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Running back up the steps to the section of the room by the bar, Hound swung his pool cue at the mobster that had thrown the chair. The attack hit, but ended up only a glancing blow that did not seem to slow the mobster much.

Back down by the busted pool table, one of the bikers next to Mess swung his pool cue at the private eye once again. "Let's see how much being pumped up helps you now!" He yelled as the cue cracked across Mess' back. However, the blow barely registered to Mess, who shook it off and was still going strong.

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This guy may be strong...

...but can he fight?

Most of the two bit thugs the Mob employed could swing a fist, but they were not trained fighters like Mess. Even if this guy was as strong as him...

He let loose two jabs, to distract the man...

"Here's lefty for ya!"

...weaved left, weaved right, and then swung a bruising right cross into the man, swinging with his whole body.

"And righty coming up!" he smiled, as his fist weaved into the man.

"It's gonna take a bigger man than you to take me down!" he gloated.

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The mobster back up near the door remained in place, staring down a couple of patrons that had started to run for the door, his pistol still pointed downward. The people that had been making for the door instead rushed over to try to take cover under tables or in booths.

Mess delivered his right cross into the large mobster's jaw, but the man took the blow before snapping his head back around to face off with Mess without so much as a pause. "Oh, I'm big enough!" He yelled, bringing his left hand down onto Mess' shoulder once again.

Up where he was in melee with one of the mobsters, Hound spotted Ricky crawling across the bar room floor, making his way towards the back exit.

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Once again the large mobster manages to land a powerful blow on Mess, but the experienced pugilist manages to stay on his feet.

Up near the bar, the mobster that Hound had just hit with the pool cue takes a swing at the private eye. Hound manages to duck under the swing, but it came a lot closer than he would have liked.

The biker that was fighting with one of the mobsters again swung his pool stick at the man. It whistled closer this time, but the mobster still managed to step aside. Growling angrily, the mobster reached under his jacket and pulled out a pistol. He then swung the weapon at the biker, but once again his attack missed its target.

Over by the broken pool table, the other biker present aimed a punch at the large mobster, managing to land a solid blow to the side of his head. While the mobster remained on his feet, he clearly felt the blow.

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NPC

"Damn and blast, curses, curses, curses!" swore the Hound as the frenzy became more frenzied.

"I hired you to take these goons down!" he yelled at his partner as he once again gripped the shaft of his cue and took a swing at the nearest mook.

This time, the blow connected roundly on the side of his head, snapping the cue with its force, and sending the mobster to the floor, soundly knocked out.

"That's how you do it!" he explained, proud but still deeply scared.

"Right, who's next! come get some! or, alternatively, let me run away!"

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Scanning the area around him, Hound does not see any of the other nearby combatants. He does notice the mobster near the front door, who has a pistol in his hand, but is currently not aiming it at anyone. The man was keeping an eye on the bar, and happens to look over as one of his companions falls to the floor unconscious at Hound's feet.

Hound also spots Ricky, who is still crawling across the floor and is almost to the bar's back exit.

Back down in the main melee, the biker with the pool cue swings once again at Mess, this time missing by a wide mark.

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"I've done had enough of this!"

The Mess was beginning to lose his temper - the little of it he had. He loved a good fight but getting pounded into the dirt by some common mobster was not what he had in mind. This guy was souped up somehow, he knew that, but even still.

For a moment he thought about using his blood powers to wreak havoc on the man...

Damn, no he swore to himself.

He would take this guy out with his bare hands, fair and square....

And with that, he threw a few wild punches, trying to clear his head.

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While the big mobster managed to avoid Mess' feints and jabs, the private eye found himself with a brief reprieve. Instead of renewing his attack on Mess, the large man instead glanced over at the biker who had just hit him. "Back off small fry!" He bellowed, as he delivered a powerful backhand to the side of the biker’s head.

The blow connected solidly, and was powerful enough to spin the biker around and send him flying backward where he crashed onto a table in a booth, breaking beer bottles and otherwise causing a large mess. The biker groaned slightly before slumping into unconsciousness.

The large mobster then focused his attention back to Mess.

Seeing one of his friends taken down by Hound, the mobster by the door raises his pistol as he takes a step to the side to try to get a clearer shot. The gunshot echoes through the chaos in the bar, but the mobster’s aim was well off, as the bullet strikes a neon sign on the back wall, shattering it.

Not far from Mess and the large mobster, one of the other bikers continues to swing his pool cue at another mobster. Once again, the attack wildly missed the intended target. The mobster takes a step closer, and pistol whips the biker across the face with his handgun, knocking the biker to the ground and into unconsciousness.

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NPC

Well they seem to be doing a good job knocking each other out! I must make a habit of being on the good side of the local biker gang...

Time to give my partner a hand...

With a dainty shuffle of his feet, scuttling round to the side of the mobster who was giving the Mess a battering, Harry gave a little dance and then with an alarming turn of speed, a shove. If he could trip this guy up, surely the Mess could give him that knockout blow...

Oh dear...he is bigger than I thought... he wailed to himself as his hands battered ineffectively against the man.

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Running back down to where his partner was still deep in the brawl, Hound moved up to the large mobster and tried push him over to provide his partner with a better chance of taking him down. However, the rumpled PI found the massive man to be far sturdier than he first appeared. "Was that supposed to tickle?" He asked Hound with a brief glance.

"This sure won't tickle!" Yelled the last remaining biker as he swung his pool cue at the large mobster now. But his aim was off, and the cue missed its target, while inadvertently whistling far too close to Hound's head.

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