Fight Fire With Fire [Gaz/Blab/Arc]

[thearcguardian]

The town of Zoiton was bustling today, as it normally was. Merchants selling large sums of vegetables, fish, and meats from the farm lands and off the coast nearby. The entire town was engulfed in the scent of wood stoves burning and delicious meals abound. To be in the city and not be hungry is a sin. At least that's what it feels like if you enter this place. Here we find one of our many adventures starting, with a young scrawny lad who had just walked into a bar.


The boy certainly didn't seem like the type to have money, and that was the first reaction of the bartender. The boy was much too young to be drinking, dirty from head to toe, clothes tattered like no other. Carrying a sack on his shoulder with loud clanking noises abound. The boy would make his way straight to the front of the bar. Ignoring the snickers of the drunks who he was currently sharing the pub with. As he sat down he'd look up at the barkeep. Who was busy trying his best not to bust out laughing. The boys eyes said that he thought this was perfectly normal, and his smile made him seem like he wasn't trying to pull any fast one or something. As the barkeep looks he'd jokingly ask, "well, what can I do for ya?" The boy not immediately noticing the sarcasm in the man's voice without skipping a beat would reply, "Two shots of Spiced Rum and a cup of good Grog." His voice was without a hint of joking, which only made it funnier to the bartender and drunks. The bartender leaning forward would smirk and say,"Aren't you a little young to be drinking? Why don't you head across the street and see if you can get a glass of milk from the maids." which only made the drunks laugh harder. Which, in return, pissed off Cid.

Cid would reach up and grab the guys collar, yanking towards him with a hefty amount of force. If the bartender was expecting it and prepared himself, he might of been able to stop it. But due to the shock of the movement the bartender was face to face with the boy, " I don't want 'milk'. I want rum, beer, grog, ya piss toothed pin head. So ya gonna serve a paying customer or ya gonna keep acting like a shitegob?" A series of ' ooos ' and mild chuckles seemed to fill the bar in reaction to the 'tough guy'. The bartender having none of it would pull his collar away and say sternly,"I think you need to leave, before I drag you out on your ear. Brat." and like that, that was all the boy needed to spark his anger. Jumping up onto the bar and grabbing the man's shoulders, he'd reel his head forward and slammed the top of it straight into the man's nose. Breaking it on impact and caused the man to fall back squirming on the floor, calling the boy every curse word in the book. Two of the drunks would pick up the boy and his bag and toss him straight out into the middle of the street, ready to teach this punk a lesson they'd step out cracking their knuckles in order to get revenge for their favorite bartender. Cid would dust himself off and toss his bag to the side, standing up and cracking his own knuckles, " Ya wanna piece of me? Come on then! If I can't get a drink I can at least get a fight! " Well, no one could say that exciting things didn't happen in the city. As a few of the civilians would watch, not stepping in as usual, most people are too scared to get involved.

[Blaka]

SPOILER: Click to show

{@Grader}
Permission to grab Cid was given

Only one of the civilians was brave enough to step in. Granted, he probably had a far greater chance of success dissolving the conflict than anyone else around. And civilian was likely the last word the bounty hunter would have used to describe himself. To be fair, multiple firearms and a Machete in the inside pockets of his vest may disqualify somebody from counting as a regular citizen. Being a fishman giant more than twice as tall as the people around him also didn't help.

"Oy."

By grunting one single word - more of a simple sound - Baltoh Hoxmarch had the attention of everybody around him. Wotan tended to do that even without making noise, only the trouble with the foolish kid had made it possible to approach more or less unnoticed. The blue skinned monster stomped past the mostly shocked citizens and stopped right in front of the three would be combatants.

"You really wanna fight two grown men boy? You'll just hurt yourself. And what's with you?" he turned his grin towards the drunkards "Two guys against a little kid? Shame on you! Rovahahaha!"

"What do YOU want freak?!" yelled one of the drunks. Clearly, even though the day was still young, he had lost his grip on reality already. "This is none of your business!"
"Dude..." whispered his buddy, clearly a lot more impressed by the vicious jaw and huge potential fists.
"What you gonna listen to fish now?!" snapped the first one at his comrade.

A grave mistake, as it became apparent when a blue palm as big as his skull slapped the boozer in the face. The poor sod was landed full speed in the wooden wall behind him.
Baltoh frowned.
"Sleep it off punk!" he bellowed, not caring about the fact that the fool had already lost consciousness. Turning to the guy's partner in crime he bend down so that his razor sharp teeth grinned right at the man's horrified face. "Tell him to lay off the beer when he gets up will ya? And work on his manners."
"A-aye aye sir!"
"Rovahaha!" The giant fishman threw his head back in laughter and got back into a straight position again. "That's better!"

The civilians around them backed off by now, very careful not to get involved. Thus none of them stood in the way when Baltoh simply grabbed the streetkid by the collar of his shirt and dragged him away.
"Let's get you to a nicer place where you aren't in trouble." he mumbled.

The place next door looked - and smelled - nicer indeed. A good meal would do him good now. Keeping his head down in order avoid hitting the doorway, the moray-man entered the inn and sat himself and Cid down close to the door. It was a nice joint, with bright wooden walls and large enough windows to let the light from outside illuminate the room well. His huge bottom on the small bar stools must have looked rather ridiculous and was indeed a little uncomfortable but it would do.

"Can we get three cheeseburgers, please? And a coke or something for the kid." Mr. Hoxmarch grinned at the waitress passing by.
Having ordered his meal he casually took put a whole block of bounty letters from his jacket and quickly browsed the pages. There was a target living here in Verdenstein' south that he wanted his hands on. As he was browsing, the bald bounty hunter looked over to his new aquaintance every now and then.
"So what's your name kid? And what were you doing back the- Aah there we go!"

He had found what he was looking for. The picture depicted a scrawny, skeleton like young black man with a dishevelled hazelnut hair and weighing scale in his spindly hands. Wanted dead or alive. 'Famine Scales' Ruskea Halu. Reward: 33 Million Beri.