deercountry | How to Start a Barfight Like a Professional and Flirt While Doing It

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How to Start a Barfight Like a Professional and Flirt While Doing It

Who: Bolin and Delilah Dirk
What: Two chaotic people meet. Turns out similar vibes do not cancel out.
When: Evening, late month
Where: A pub in Trench

She righted wrongs. It's what it said on her little business stand she set up, whenever the occasion took her. She'd earned a good wage at it so far. Maybe? She hadn't really figured out the rocks part yet. Finance wasn't exactly her forte, as it happened. But she also kept stashing them like a squirrel because she didn't trust banks much.

But she earned something from it. In this case, a young woman had approached her - timid, worried - with quite the take. A music box she had, a relic from her family. Stolen by a brigand who had attempted to seduce her and, when that had failed, had stolen it in pique.

It was exactly the sort of person she had the urge to pound until they were about a foot and a half shorter.

She'd gone with a name and a description and that had led her to a little dive sort of pub. She sat herself in a corner, waiting for him to make his appearance.

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It wasn't really the sort of place that Bolin hung out, but The Crossed Keys (situated on the edge of Willful Machine with a lovely view of the canals) seemed like a hub for people who were looking for something. Buying, selling, and a little of the saucy in between.

So an Earthbender and a fire ferret walk into a bar... and that's about as far as the joke got because Bolin was on a mission and didn't have as much time for fun as he would have liked. If he fit Delilah's description it would be a mistake, but an earnest one as he approached the bar - waiting patiently for the barmaid to finish with the crowd of bawdy patrons more interested in her curves than her ability to pull a pint.

He would never be served at that rate so... could you really blame him for sticking his foot out a little too far as one man passed by with his hands full of drink. Would you really blame him if the man tripped and fell and Bolin gestured to the next guy trying to crowd his own order in? Would you really blame him if it started a fight that got half the patrons kicked out by a bouncer wider than the door? Because it's effective, you have to admit. And it got him to the barmaid so he could ask her something.

And for what. All that commotion and as she answered he looked more and more crestfallen. Whatever it was he came for wasn't there after all. May as well stay and have a pity drink. Just tea, please. Bitter, like his disappointment.

You know what's worse than a misidentification? Making it harder for her to hide in a crowd. She's a bit distinctive to begin with - even with the cloak she's wearing. But what does more for that is her stomping across the bar, steaming through the ongoing fighting Bolin caused to grab the man himself by the front of his jacket, pulling him down to eye height. She regards him with a scrunched, disgruntled face.

"Give it."

Yeep!

Definitely not what he was expecting to happen. Yanked down, back rigid, eyes wide. But he doesn't flail or kneejerk to free himself. Bolin doesn't particularly recognize the woman and there's a lot of chaos going on, so give him a minute before he decides whether or not he should physically engage.

In the end, he does, placing his hands over hers in an attempt to ease her grip off.

"Give what? Lady I don't know what you're talking about, who are you??"

She frowns at him, ready to speak again then pausing.

"Hang on."

The man who had been running up on them as another bar fight target gets a chair kicked into his way, sending him flailing to the ground.

"Right. Where's the necklace?! You give that back and I don't have to sword you!"

Oh shit- that was both terrifying and very cool from a technical perspective. Good aim. Great timing- wait what did she say? He opens his mouth to answer before grabbing Delilah hard and swinging her to his left- avoiding a flying beer glass which hits the bar and shatters where she was standing.

"What necklace?!"

It occurs to him then that she must think he's some kind of thief; and while she isn't totally wrong he hasn't stolen anything in years and years and how dare you that is so rude!!

"Listen- I don't know who you think I am but I didn't steal anything! I'm here looking for a necklace!! Now let go of me or I'll make you, final warning!"

"I think you're the man here!" She reaches into her cleavage, fishing out a paper and almost smooshing it into his face. It's a sketch of the man she's after, and it's...not a bad match. Hair's wrong, though. She pulls it back, slapping it down on the bar and pointing.

"See? Read the description! Right there!"

She snaps her attention though, because something is sailing towards them. She shoves him back, springing into a backwards cartwheel herself to avoid that turns out to be an entire barrel.

"Can everyone just stop fighting already please!" Bolin yells, stumbling back as Delilah pushes him.

No one hears.

If they do, then they just don't care.

Fair enough, really.

He sighs, frustrated, and curls his fists before deciding to uproot the ENTIRE floor with one giant shockwave through the stone floor. Each large paver upends and sends everyone flying or crashing before they drop back down.

"EVERYONE OUT!" he yells and points towards the door before swinging his finger to the woman accusing him.

"Except for you!"

She sits back up from behind the table his little special manoeuvre, blowing a lock of hair from her face with a most displeased look on her face.

She levers herself back to her feet, and now it's no more Ms-Nice-Dirk.

"Fine with me, pretty boy," she replies, drawing her swords slowly.

When in doubt, escalate. She can bean him with a chair or something when he's subdued.

And before was being nice??

Bolin doesn't have a weapon to draw but he clenches his fists and yanks a hunk of the floor up into the air in front of him. Not enormous, about a foot square, but it spins like the disc of an angle grinder and super heats into lava. He isn't pulling any punches and he sure isn't about to get stabbed.

"Don't come any closer, I will fight you."

But very much in the tone of I don't want to.

"Listen to me, okay? I'm not whoever you think I am. I didn't do anything and I don't have any necklaces."

She stops for a minute, lowering her swords.

"Oh, no, now that's just bloody amazing - well done, you." But her look shifts back, in the 'I am very much willing to fight' vein. But she reaches over to the bar, tapping the sheet of paper with the tip of her sword.

"Pretty good match. Even a little drawing. Hair's wrong, but you could have changed that. See? Square jawed, handsome, your height and build. No mustache, though. For the best."

She fell back into a ready stance.

"And saying you don't have them is exactly what someone who does have them would say. I mean, they're the last she has of her departed mother. I'm going to get them back."

"I can't even grow a mustache!"

Which sounded slightly less bad in his head but here we are.

"I came in here because I heard the bartender could hook me up with a paleblood jewel, I didn't take anything from anyone, I swear."

She just frowns at him. But it's a bit of an impasse, isn't it.

"Fine," she says, and leaps behind the bar in a smooth movement of skirts and a mass of hair. "Let's see if it's here, then. That'll prove it one way or another. Maybe."

Her head poked back up from under the bar, frowning at him.

"Still kinda wanna fight you though."

And then she's back at it.

"Do something useful, kick along the base of the bar, see about hidden empty spaces."

"Woman-"

Bolin gives her a look and sighs dramatically before he does as he's told, kicking along the baseboard of the bar while he contemplates the fact that he very much would also not be beyond fighting her back. Despite what he said.

"Why would a thief hide his thing in a bar that isn't his?"

"You said the bartender had your thing. Where else would he hide it? I mean, really. If he were more creative he wouldn't be running this awful bar. It'd be a better bar."

There is a thunk of his boot and she stops. "Aha! Here we go!" There is a loud sound that suggests she's busily kicking in part of the bar on her side.

"Now, if there's a necklace in here too, gonna have to sword you at least a little bit, but - oh. What's it look like, this whatsit jewel?"

"Well, I wanted to buy the thing.. now this is just stealing and- ugh. You know what? I don't even care anymore," he says, leaning over the bar to look.

"It's a paleblood stone, so it's like.. opal? Big and white and rainbow?"

"If it helps," her voice comes from beneath the bar, "I'm like ninety percent sure he stole it to begin with. Dodgy chap, been scoping the place out for a long while."

She thunked the jewel on top of the bar, popping back into view.

"Besides, you don't have to take it. At least that much of your story is true. And no necklace, so I don't have to sword you at all."

Her voice was cheery, but there was a note of disappointment at the distinct lack of swording things today.

"I'd rather not be sworded if it's all the same. Solstice is soon and I think my family would be upset."

Best bet he takes that stone, though.

She rolls her eyes, arms crossed.

"Ugh, fine, spirit of the season and all that."

She stamps her foot, and there is a strange sort of thunk. She looks downwards, thoughtfully, then looks back up at him, stepping to the side.

"Hey, pretty boy -" she points downwards. "Got anything to break through the floor? Money rock says there's stairs under here and I might get my prey anyways."

Pretty boy. Humph. Humph? Mmm... yeah, Humph.

He looks over the bar and squints like that will help him hear better. Man it sure would be helpful to have a Beifong around right now. They'd be able to feel.. but there isn't and he can't, so he just hops over the bar to wrench up the floor the old fashioned way.

Good thing he's strong.

And sure enough, it was a trap door all along, with dark stairs leading into a mysterious(?) cellar.

"Oh that is.. that is spooky. You're good at this.. what was your name again?"

"There's always a hidden room," she says, reaching down into one of her tall boots and pulling out what looks suspiciously like a smoke grenade. "They always think it's clever, too. Pull a book, candlestick. Something like that."

She pauses, flicking a match to light the fuse.

"Delilah Dirk, adventuress." The fuse hisses into life and she casually tosses it down the stairs.

"No chance they'll ambush us now, if there's a them to ambush. Still, might want to do the glowy rock thing, so I don't mistake you in the gloom, Mr...?"

Oh wow she is.. she is so cool when she isn't trying to stab him.

That's a very low bar, Bolin.

But he listens and hoiks a few pebbles up from the ground to phase shift. Magma doesn't cast a lot of light but it's enough as they spin, hovering in the palm of his hand.

"Bolin," comes the answer as he tugs his scarf up over his nose and mouth. A covert, smoke screen, huh. She's done this before.

"Just Bolin."

Many times. She turns, placing her hands on the edge of the ripped-up hole he's made, crouching down.

"Bolin, that's a new one."

She gripped the edge, half-hopping and swinging herself body-length down the stairs, a mass of chestnut hair flowing out behind her like a battle flag.

There is a meaty sort of thud at the bottom of the stairs.

"Got one!" she calls up.

"Ha!" he pumps his fist in the air with success, before catching himself and giving his arm a look like he still isn't sure if they're on the same side now or what.

He hopes so though, because that was cool.

"I hope it's who you're looking for."

Because the alternative would paint a nasty picture of them and then there very well may be a bounty out with his likeness.

Still...

He gestures at the cellar.

"Ladies first?"

She's already down the stairs, practically, and there's some sounds from down in the smoke.

"Think it's just him!" she calls up, and then...then she's dragging a man by the shoulders up the stairs, grunting in exertion.

A man who looks...significantly like Bolin, just with...a rubbish beard. And terrible hair.

Ew he sure is. Bo follows and stops when he meets her, stooping down and squinting for a better look.

"Well would you look at that."

He tugs on the mustache a time or two before letting go and motioning for her to give him over, hefting the thief up and over his shoulder with ease.

"I guess we better turn him in for your reward, right?"

She holds up a hand for a moment, fishing in the man's pockets...and pulling out an ornate necklace. She nods, satisfied.

"Sixty/forty split on him?"

Bolin looks over his free shoulder with surprise.

"Really? You don't have to do that."

She shrugged, smiling a bit.

"I did threaten to stab you. You deserve something for that. And the mistaken identity."

"Mmmmm," he considers.

"Deal. Plus a big fat I'm sorry."

Her eyes narrow. She hadn't bargained on that part.

"Fine, fifty-fifty."

Ooh we're haggling now? Haggling is fun. But no one ever said he was good at math.

"thirty-sixty, a sorry, and you buy me a drink."

Edited 2022-01-12 02:12 (UTC)

"Look, I think you've got that the wrong way 'round - and I don't think that it's strictly nece..."

She paused, tilting her head.

"Wait, are you trying to chat me up?"

... wait.

"Up to where?"

She gives him a bit of a look, gesturing between them, hand pointing down, waggling a finger back and forth.

"Asking a lady to buy you a drink. It's the other way around, pretty boy. Well, usually. Depends on your line of work, I suppose."

Just in case, she clarifies. "You know. Two people, getting drinks...?"

“Oh- oH OH right— right well. No I mean I wasn’t suggesting a date as payment I’m not that guy.”

..

“Would that have worked, though?”

She shrugs.

"Dunno. Nobody's really tried before," she replied, regarding the necklace very carefully so as not to give away anything.

And, finally, after a silence.

"Drop the formal apology and I'll consider it."

"But that part is worth the most."

Is it Bo? Are you just being stubborn.

She crossed her arms, huffing. "It's not like I actually stabbed you or anything."

She sighed, finally throwing up her hands.

"Alright! Fine! I'm sorry I tried to sword you!"

"Aha! Oh, sweet sweet victory."

His feelings aren't even hurt, he just wanted her to give the thing she didn't want to.

"Well in that case, I owe you a drink, fair warrior."

the guy over his shoulder moans and Bolin turns, clunking the thief's head against the stone wall. He goes limp again.

"After we drop this fella off."

"Yes," she replied through gritted teeth and an aggrieved face, her fists balled, "after."

Satisfied, Bolin smiles and adjusts the thief on his shoulder. He's got a pep in his step the whole way to the bounty drop off. Or whatever? He doesn't know how it works, all he knows is that he's got a big shiny stone and a drink... date? with a feisty brunette. What a good day this has turned out to be.

Visibly. Grumbly. There might as well be a little black cloud over her as she directs him this way and that, until they're back to her client. She takes care of the actual transaction, giving Bolin a bit of a glare when she hands over his portion of the reward.

"Right then," she says, "now, or...?"

She'd absolutely hate to owe him for a while.

"Now is good."

Pleased. As. Punch.

"Do you know a place? I only really hang out at The Raccoon Room."

"Never been, prefer other places," she replied, pointing.

"Good dive bar a few blocks that way."

Eeeh.. could be worse.

"Is that your thing? Dive.. bars? Do we have to swim? Because I'm not prepared for that. I don't have a swim suit, here."

"Hmm? Oh, no, they're usually cheap and have the better food. You know, proper pub food."

"I have no idea what that means but cheap is good and I like food."

She sighs, finally just giving in and deciding to go with the flow.

"Oh, alright then. Let's get on with things."

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How to Start a Barfight Like a Professional and Flirt While Doing It

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