2019-08-17 - Kung Fu Fighting

Isolde hadn't been to the Pourhouse yet. She'd had enough hard alcohol to last her for a few days or so but she suggested to Alexander that they celebrate his eggplant parmesean! It came out pretty good in Isolde's opinion. And so, here they were, entering the Pourhouse! "Next you'll have to try scalloped potatoes!" Isolde suggested as she waited for Alexander to walk in first before walking in behind him.,

The Pourhouse was a little more crowded than usual tonight. Music was playing, there was some sports game on the TV. "Pick a seat! I'm buying!"

Alexander doesn't come to the Pourhouse all that often. It's definitely on the rougher end of drinking establishments in the town, and he's not a hugely popular or social guy. On the bright side, it's definitely not as long a walk as it is from here to the beach, and Isolde's good cheer is hard to resist. So he smiles, and agrees, and even looks pretty pleased to have been able to successfully pull off the eggplant lasagna, although he does admit, "The Captain did most of the cooking. I watched and learned, and chopped a few things. But I believe that I've learned enough to reproduce the recipe, and a few general tricks aside. Maybe scalloped potatoes could be next."

He holds the door open for her as she walks in behind him, and frowns briefly at the crowd. Not a lot of tables or booths are available - none at all, in fact, and the bartender isn't someone he knows well enough to speak to. There are a couple of stools near the end of the bar, though, so he points to them, starts making his way through the crowd. "Isolde, you spoil me. How about you buy the first round, and I the second?" It's a playful sort of negotiation, his head turning back to give her a wink as they reach the stools.

Isolde's eyes scanned the crowded bar curiously. She wasn't expecting it to be so filled up BUT that didn't matter. They'd make do. She was still riding a bit of a high from last night after the walk on the beach with Itzhak, so it would take quite a bite to sour her mood today. "Does he cook a lot of things?" She asked, curious. "Maybe he isn't as grumpy as I thought he was." An idle musing. Sticking close to Alexander as they made their way to the bar.

Laughing at his haggle. "I guess we can do that." Teasing him back a touch. Flagging down the bartender - that bright red hair of hers easy to spot anyway. "Whatever's on tap for me! And whatever he wants!" Flashing a bright smile to man.

"The Captain?" Alexander considers this. "He seems very adept in the kitchen, so I suppose so. " He makes an amused noise, likely lost in the background hubbub of the bar. "And he's pretty grumpy. But I think it's just who he is." He eels his way through the crowd, careful not to touch the bodies moving back and forth. This is made easier, to be honest, by the fact that most of the people here are townies, and are just as eager to not be touched by Alexander as he is to not touch him. There are a few rolled eyes and snickers as old time townies eye the man; he doesn't seem to notice.

Instead, he gestures graciously to the stool for her, and adds to the bartender, "I'll take whatever's on tap, as well." Then slides onto the other free stool himself, turning towards Isolde. "At any rate, thank you for my free beer. At this rate, I'll definitely have to cook for you more often."

Isolde, on the other hand, does notice some of the looks. It puts just a touch of a nick in her mood. Barely noticable. She doesn't understand really, why not many people are fans of Alexander. So what if he might be a little odd something? They all were. And he had likely saved this town a bunch! People were just ungrateful. She slides onto the stool and leans on the bar.

The bartender gives a nod of acknowledgement for their orders and Isolde laughed again. "A drink in exchange for food doesn't seem too bad! Enjoy it while it lasts. When I start cooking. We'll just be trading dinners." She grinned. Her head turned a touch, looking over her shoulder as she heard the startings of what might be some kind of arguement between two of the tables, but it seemed to die down because the next moment they were all laughing. Her brow furrowed a little but she refocused on Alexander.

"It's too bad you couldn't come with us to Trivia last night! It was fun. Maybe next time." Pushing a hand through her hair. "How is Isabella doing?"

"I look forward to it. Although I suppose that means that we have to buy groceries," Alexander murmurs. "Maybe once we both have a few things we'd like to try, we can get together and make a list, make sure we don't run out of ingredients."

He glances sidelong to the argument, staring at it for a long moment, but when it dies down, his gaze returns to her. "Sorry about that. I was going to go, but in the end, I just wasn't feeling the amount of people. Next time, though," he says, and puts a hand over his heart. "And I think she's doing well. Still recovering from her wounds. Which we all seem to do too much, of late."

It's fond, despite the worry. And as their drinks arrive, a guy emerges out of the crowd. He's about Isolde's age, maybe a year or two older, clearly more than a couple of beers down in a night of drinking, and watching her with interest. "Hey, sweetheart. I don't think I've seen you here before. What's your name?"

"Next time for sure!" Isolde agreed. "Maybe I will have to visit her next. I still need to talk to Vivian. I will do that tomorrow and then we can figure out Seattle shopping." The idea of that seems to excite her a touch. Going to a new city for a day to check things out. "Hopefully no more getting hurt for a while."

She takes a pull from her beer, blue eyes cutting over towards the stranger curiously. A brief look to Alexander. Then back to the man. It was a simple enough question he asked. Though the sweetheart thing - Isolde wasn't a fan of. Shifting a bit, as if closer to Alexander, though she was looking at the man. "Wouldn't you like to know." Which could be a flirt, aside the fact her tone was completely flat as she took another pull from her beer and turned away from him. Hopefully he'd get the hint.

"So. Any interesting new jobs?" She asks Alexander, as if to further shut the stranger out.

"No more getting hurt," Alexander agrees. "At least for a little while." He's about to say more, when the townie interrupts.

It's a good attempt at the cold shoulder, but sails blissfully over the townie's head. He grins, and exhales alcohol-laden breath over the both of them as he says, loudly, drowning out Isolde's attempt to turn the conversation back to her current companion, "Sure would! My name's Harry. So you know what you'll be screamin', later tonight." He gives her a wink, clearly thinking it's the height of sexy flirtation. "What's yours?"

Alexander frowns. "She already made it clear she's not interested, Harrison Danvers. You should leave."

The problem with Alexander saying this, of course, is that he says it about the same way he says everything - soft, wary, a bit hesitant. Easy to ignore. So Harry just says, "Buzz off, Clayton, I'm talking with the lady," and leans in closer to Isolde. "C'mon, tell me your name, sweetheart."

Isolde's grip on her cup tightens as this Harry continues on. Her good mood is very much in danger of being ruined. And Alexander can see the irritation creeping into her gaze. "I told you to back off." There's an edge in her voice. And then Alexander chimes in too.

When Danvers ignores this warning too, soft and hesitant as it might have been, Isolde whips around to face him. "I said FUCK. OFF!" It was like a switch was flipped somewhere inside the woman. Clearly not in the mood to be dealing with the likes of this guy. And she gives him a solid shove backwards with both hands. Those wild blue eyes daring him to try some thing again.

She shoves him with a surprising amount of force. Of course, this causes him to bump into the person on the stool next to her, causing them to spill some of their beer. Which makes them, VERY unhappy.

"Oh, no."

It's said with exactly the same resigned tone that Alexander had met the reality of being trapped on a Hell-carousel, and he slips off his stool as Isolde's voice takes that edge. "Look, you need to--" Whatever he was going to say to Harry is lost when that switch flips in Isolde, and he twitches backwards himself, wincing as the drunkard is sent careening down into the guy on the other side of Isolde.

Who promptly stands up, looking pissed. He reaches out for Isolde's nearest arm, and Alexander's expression goes blank. He lunges forward, snaking an arm past Isolde and grabbing the guy's hair, then bringing him down face first into the bar. "Don't touch her." The guy, at this point, is not listening.

The two friends he was drinking with, on the other hand, stand up, outraged expressions painted all over their faces. "You assholes've fucked up now," one says, grinning like he's looking forward to it.

Isolde looks like she's just as ready to rail on the guy that's reaching for her, but Alexander's leaping into the fray. She watches wide-eyed when the guy's head gets slammed into the bar. Impressive. Then his buddies are getting involved. Isolde is going to be VERY apologetic about all this later. But right now, she is angry and nice Isolde is tucked away for a little while.

She makes like she's going to punch one of them, the other one catches her instead! Getting a hit to her side. Clearly not above hitting a lady. Isolde stumbles back against the bar, but she's not backing down yet. Getting ready to lunge again.

Other patrons are starting to get involved now too. That argument that almost happened between those two tables breaks out now! This poor bartender is likely regretting coming to work today.

Yep. It's a drunken night at the Pourhouse, and it's all going straaaaaight to hell. No one seems inclined to de-escalate immediately; even the bartender is just stepping back, grabbing the bottles of the Good Booze, and keeping them out of range. Alexander twitches, and looks like he might be about to do...something to try to calm things down, but then someone goes and punches Isolde.

So instead of calming people down and running away like a good psychic, his face suddenly contorts into a snarl, and he grabs the draft mug full of beer, and throws it, mug-bottom first, right at the guy. There's a meaty THUNK as it hits his nose, and beer sprays in a nice little fountain over the group. The melee grows, consuming two more tables until the roar of anger and drunken excitement is almost palpable even if you AREN'T a mental talent.

Isolde would totally just let the Pourhouse burn down when she's in this frame of mind. So she's not gonna be anyyyy help in trying to quell things. She snickers as the man that punched her got clocked with a full mug. So she goes for her original target of the two again. He is in the middle of punching some OTHER townie, but she gives him a real good kick to the back of the knee. It doesn't break or anything - which is good. BUT he does go down temporarily with a JESUS CHRIST!.

The good booze are safe for the moment. A scant few patrons are smart and get the hell out of dodge to go do their drinking somewhere else. Because the cops are gonna show up eventually and no one wants in on that nonsense.

It's not that Alexander revels in violence. Somewhere after all of this, he's gonna be pretty apologetic. But when he's in it, then he's in it. And right now, there are no regrets, just blank concentration as he goes after the nearest drunk townie. Unfortunately, the guy is a millworker, built like a lumberjack, and breaks right through Alexander's assault, grabbing the smaller man's arm and slamming him back into the bar with punishing force. Alexander yelps in pain, kicks out to put some space between him and the guy.

The fighting is really just getting worse. It doesn't seem like anyone is backing down and the bartender's just kind of resigned himself to hiding behind the bar. Maybe he's called the cops! Or maybe one of the people who sneaked out did. What's for certain is that none of the current patrons have done such a thing!

A feral sort of sound escapes her when she sees Alexander get slammed down into the bar. NO FEAR. She jumps on the back of the millworker and bites his ear! Yep. She did that. Not enough to draw blood, but enough to get him to cry out and forget about Clayton. Instead trying to deal with the psycho chick on his back! Who is very much not going to let go without a fight.

Alexander should probably be realizing that this is getting out of hand. That it'd be better if they were not caught when the police get here, and that someone could actually get hurt in this brawl. But that son-of-a-bitch hurt him, which means Alexander is really no longer in a talking mood. Or thinking mood. As the guy staggers around with Isolde on his back, biting at his ear, Alexander staggers back upright.

Upside: the dude has definitely forgotten about Alexander. He's reaching up to claw and swipe at Isolde, screaming, "Get the fuck off of me you crazy bitch!"

...upside? This means he is definitely not expecting it when Alexander picks up the nearest chair and swings it around to catch the guy in the chest and throat. Wood splinters, the guy screams.

Isolde actually laughs, seeing Alexander coming out swinging with the chair. "But this is so fun." Is muttered to the man, letting go and dropping back to the floor just as chair makes contact with man. That's gonna hurt later. She stumbles backward and FINALLY seems to take note of how fucking crazy it's getting in here. There's property damage, people bleeding. Ohhh shit. Shit. Those blue eyes widen. They need to get the hell out of here.

Someone stumbles back into her and Isolde ALMOST snaps again. But no. "Drop the chair!" Isolde shouts to Alexander if he hasn't done so yet. Then she's grabbing his hand and starting to tug him. Not towards the front door, but trying to go out the back fire Exit. Because if the cops ARE on the way, Isolde has no desire of coming face to face with them. She's been doing so good about staying out of trouble.

Alexander has not already dropped the chair. In fact, he's advancing on the man with what's left of it, his expression blank, his eyes absolutely black. He's not having fun, and in just a short moment, the guy he's about to brain is not going to be having fun either.

And then Isolde touches him, and he jerks a little, sense coming back into his features. He blinks at her, then looks around. "Oh, wow." The chair pieces are dropped, hastily, and he says, "Let's abscond with all haste." He follows her towards the back and when they reach the exit, there's the flicker of power from him, reaching out to touch the fire exit. "Go ahead and open it. The alarm won't sound." Because he's making sure that circuit stays complete long enough for them to get out.

You're welcome Mr. Millworker. You get to live another day!

Isolde doesn't hesitate when Alexander speaks. She pushes the EXIT door open and stumbles out into the small alley between the Pourhouse and the neighboring building. Only once their both out and the door is closed does she take a pause. Partially to listen for any sirens, partially to try and calm her racing heart.

She just stares at Alexander for a moment with those wide blue eyes. Then there's an adrenaline fueled laughter that escapes. "...I don't think we're allowed back here for a while..." Luckily she didn't get too banged up. She might have a bruise to her side and there's a couple scratches from Mill Worker. "Are you okay?"

When she takes pause, Alexander urges her to keep moving. "Let's put some distance between us and this place." He's breathing hard, but doesn't seem to be hurt, and when she laughs, he gives her a sneaky little smile. "I'm well enough. Bruises, I think, but nothing that requires treatment. Are you okay?" A pause. "And where did you learn to throw a punch like that?" Another pause. "Or, ah, ride a man like a bronco."

Isolde keeps moving with little issue. Distance is good. "Good, good. So much for not getting hurt." She muttered, pushing a hand through her hair. There's a touch of a smirk on her lips when he asks. "I've been in plenty of bar fights." Not quite proud of the fact, but it is a fact. "Or, well. Fights in general too. People are jerks. I learned by practice I guess." She laughs again. "That was a little new though. The...jumping. I think I saw that in a movie..." Raking a hand through her hair. "Danvers should have listened."

Alexander knows the town well enough to take them down side streets away from the main drag, even as the sound of sirens goes off in the distance. "People sometimes are jerks," he admits, quietly. "And we weren't hurt that badly. Just a bruise or two." A sidelong look. "Plenty of fights, huh? Maybe we ought to get you those tattoos Itzhak has. Stay down?" A flash of a smile; its teasing, but also more...impressed than perhaps it has been, before. "I didn't realize. I mean. I knew things had been hard, and you had to take care of yourself. But you're good at it."

Isolde is plenty happy to let Alexander lead the way. He still knows this place better than she does! There's a touch of a grin at his teasing suggestion. "I hope I am not fighting enough here to warrant that." Though she does seem to be entertaining the idea for a brief moment. A shrug of her shoulders. "You have to be. Or else you die." Good that is. The words are so matter of fact. "I'm not ready to die yet." There's a brief glance over her shoulder then back to him. "Maybe we should get ice cream instead."

"That's true," Alexander says. About the dying parts: both that it's necessary, and that no one is ready to die. Yet. He reaches to rub at the small of his back where it hit the bar, and grunts, lightly. "We'll try to avoid fights when we can. But I admit that it makes me feel better, knowing that you can." Which is, in its oblique way, a sheepish admission that he perhaps hadn't thought she could, before. He flashes her a warm smile. "An ice cream sounds good, though. I know a place we can swing by on the way him. Just a convenience station, but they've got a freezer section." And he steers them back towards home, albeit with a detour.