[Tenebrae16][Bad Wolf]

[Bad Wolf]

The bar known simply as "The Pub" was already packed full of people who were looking to drink away the stress of the week. Fridays were like that, and this particular bar was an old enough establishment to have a great deal of regular clients. Along with some new ones who heard of it through various wise bits of advertisement. The owners were very clever, and the bar was currently full of quite the range of age groups. Especially since they had some sports games turned on.

There was a back room of the bar where only V.I.P. guests were allowed, checked at the door by a pair of intimidating bouncers. A second bar was set up back there, and it was just as packed as the front one. Upstairs was hopping as well, it seemed. The younger clientele tended to be upstairs where there were some arcade games, pool tables, and televisions with some popular video games--like Halo and Call of Duty--set up on them.

Sitting at the bar in the non-V.I.P. section downstairs was a young man--seeming in his early twenties--who looked Middle Eastern in origins. His hair was short and black, his eyes were brown, and his skin was olive-toned. In the way of clothes, he wore a black outfit consisting of boots, long pants, a shirt that hugged the toned muscles of his torso, gloves, and a trench coat. His gloves were custom-made, ending at the first knuckle of his fingers and leaving his palms mostly bare. They were odd, but they worked well for his purposes.

He had a drink that resembled a Bloody Mary sitting in front of him, and he was swirling around the liquid slowly as he gazed at it thoughtfully. It wasn't the first one he'd had tonight, and he was feeling a nice bit of a buzz already. Perfectly desirable, given the week he'd had. Running all over the city after dark, hunting down the handful of targets he'd been told to eliminate. Those were all dead now, so all he could really do was bide his time until he received his next assignment. So that's what he was doing now: biding his time. Biding his time, and trying to avoid trouble. He'd been getting some dark looks from certain patrons of the bar since he'd walked in here, which wasn't much of a surprise. At least none of them had approached him.

[Tenebrae16]

It had been a long time, since he had decided to get off his work and get a drink and buzzed. This was what he jokingly told himself as he entered the bar, but in truth he was not there to sample the various alcoholic drinks nor to enjoy the music or games. No, he had a different reason for having coming there and if it had been another reason, he would most likely not be there at all. The loud pulsing music and the shouts and whoops mostly from dancing teens reminded him just how much he despised places like this, especially with all it's tricky back doors and alley ways, but he had a job to do here an he was going to make sure that he did it. The sooner it was done, the faster he could leave and hand in a report to his chief about it.

The Pub might have seemed like a wonderful lively weekend after school get away for people of various ages, but like many pubs it was always a little shady and parents could never really tell what their children did our of their sight. Drugs, underage consumption of alcohol and possibly maybe even gang fights. That was why Nathan was here, without his usual uniform suit, though his badge was tucked in his pocket along with his own revolver. He was only here to check out the scene and make sure that the Pub was clean with no suspicious activity going on under the government noses. He had known of whole drug operations once going on from an inside of a pub till the drug dealers had been escorted ever so nicely to jail to serve life long sentences.

His dark sharp deep emerald eyes scanned the bar, flitting from one patron to another. He brushed a lock of his somewhat wavy brown hair away from his eyes, wishing that he could have blended in better. He thought himself to be sticking out like a sore thumb, especially with his plain long sleeved deep purple shirt and a pair of comfortable jeans that could let him run if he needed to. At least he could wear the black polishe shoes of his police uniform, that was the only comfort he had then. He was not happy that he had been chosen for this due to his age, being close to twenty would attract less attention from the more frequent teens and young adults that crowded the bar like packed sardines.

His eyes were immediately drawn to a dark figure sitting alone. The figure seemed to stand out from the more colour fully dressed crown and what's more he was alone. Sure it wasn't exactly unusual to find the odd patron of the bar like that, but the gloves he wore seemed more than just a fashion statement, there was something just overall odd about the other man and Nathan looked at him from the corner of his eye with curiosity. He would have to keep an eye on this one, he seemed suspicious enough. Especially when Nathan observed the other patrons giving the man dark looks as if he carried the plague or some other contagious deady disease. He was definitely curious now, though he was trying to tell himself to stay cool and wait for anything to happen.

[Bad Wolf]

That dark figure had just finished his second Bloody Mary when he frowned slightly, sensing that someone might be staring at him. It was an odd feeling, like a tingle down his spine. It also was something he was getting increasingly more accustomed to, due to the training he had been undertaking recently under one of his elders. It was a bit of a double-edged sword, though it had been useful to him thus far.

He ordered a third Bloody Mary "special" from the bartender, who just gave him an odd look before fetching the premixed drink. The bartender didn't know exactly what was in that drink, but it was popular. The owners of the bar just told him to serve it when it was requested, so that's what he did. No need to ask questions and potentially lose his job. He just assumed that there were drugs in there, but those who ordered the drink knew better. They knew it was actually blood in there, mixed with the alcohol.

Once the black-clad young man had another drink in front of him, he smiled and took a large sip of it. The taste of the blood made his tongue tingle excitedly, though it was nowhere near as pleasureful as taking blood from a living body. Not that he made much of a habit of doing so. Too much risk involved, in his opinion. It was easier to just drink bagged blood. Sure his kind would jokingly refer to him as a "banker" for it, but he didn't care. He doubted any others of his kind would believe him if he said he didn't like drinking from people. There was quite the stereotype attached to his clan, unfortunately. One that was earning him those glares...

The bartender was going to be switching with a replacement soon, so the man was coming around to settle the tabs with those he'd been serving. "Here's your bill," the man said, placing it next to the Bloody Mary. A credit card was placed on top of the check a moment later, and the bartender swiped it before giving it back to its owner with a, "Thank you, Mr. Khan."

The one identified as Mr. Khan nodded in return, taking another sip of his drink. Though "Mr. Khan" was not what he usually went by. It was too formal. He much preferred to be called by his first name: Reza. But people seemed to fixate on his surname, which came with its share of annoyances. Apparently it was fun to yell out "Khhhhhaaaaaannnnnnn" as per some movie. Star Trek? One of those, he supposed. He wasn't much of a science fiction person. Time for watching movies was something he lacked, anyway.

Reza sighed as he shifted slightly on the bar stool, making sure his trench coat continued to do its job and cover the scimitar he had sheathed at his left hip. He had a few other weapons hidden under his clothes--a couple knives and a stake--but the scimitar was harder to hide than those. So long as he wasn't getting frisked, he should be fine. Not that any human cop had ever tried.

He turned around to look out at the bar, wanting to see if there was anyone obviously looking his way. A quick scan of the crowd resulted in nothing, but a more precise search yielded far more. There was more than one person looking at him. One was...human, it seemed. Purple shirt, jeans. Not impressive. He could be put out of mind. But another person... Tall. Bulky muscles shown off by a sleeveless shirt. Pale complexion. Threat. Especially since he seemed so fixated on Reza. That was just wonderful. He wondered just what that clown was up to.

"That clown" seemed to notice Reza was looking his way, and he started to make his way through the groups of people to head toward the bar with purpose. He was cracking his knuckles in anticipation, and Reza raised an eyebrow. Did that man intend to attack him inside a crowded bar? Well shit. That wasn't good. If one counted in Reza's current buzz from the alcohol-spiked blood, this could turn into a very bad situation.

[Tenebrae16]

Nathan surveyed the rest of the bar, eyes sharp, trained both by his job and his own keen observation skills. It was a rowdy bar, not unlike the few he had been too although maybe much more tightly packed and the music seemed more grating on his ears. He found his eyes wondering back to the same lone figure clad in black that was almost lost with how easily he blended in to the dark walls with what he wore though Nathan couldn't help but think that made him stand out like a sore thumb compared to the colorfully dressed crowd. He eyed the figure's drink, it was full though it had not been since he last glance over at him, that meant he had probably ordered another drink, no doubt he was probably not a light drinker by the way he drank it down unless the drink was not alcoholic and that was highly unlikely in a place like this. Unfortunately alcohol was not illegal and the man was clearly of age to be drinking it.

Tugging at his sleeves, as his hand fell to his side, he brushed against the handle of his revolver slightly poking out from his back pocket but barely noticeable with his shirt over it. It brought him a sense of security in the crowded bar and reminded him to keep vigilant for pick pockets who might mistake it for his wallet or something. He hoped that he wouldn't have to resort to using it tonight and hoped that he would be able to do a quick sweep of the bar and jog home to do a report before falling asleep on his bed. Not the most glamorous existence for him as a cop, but he had not expected such a future when he took up the job after his father had passed away in the line of duty, during a shoot out.

His eyes once again lingered to the man sitting alone despite himself, he tried to look away and not appear too awkward just standing and staring for no reason. He directed his gaze to the other patrons that crowded the bar, watching for any form of suspicious activity, any one showing symptoms of drug abuse or a looked too young to be drinking. It was hard to tell with everyone moving and the loud buzz of the music and loud shouts they considered conversation. He noticed how many people had gone sleeveless and all the jackets left on chairs and his thoughts returned to the figure that still had his large trench coat on and was siting all alone by himself, it was part curiosity, part instinct and and part of him doing his job when he glanced over at him again. He followed his line of sight to a large muscular male across the room.

For some reason he was reminded of his high school bully that pushed everyone around and whom he had always thought of as a tower or could be compared to a huge hulking gorilla. There had been rumors that he was older and had been held back a few grades though no one ever knew, he wondered what happened to him after they all graduated. Then he blinked and silently scolded himself, it was not a time to start getting nostalgic and reminiscing about the past. He could do that all he wanted when he was old and going senile, not when he was suppose to be keeping an eye out for suspicious activity.

His gaze returned to the tall muscular man who seemed to be making his way over to the dark clad one. Cracking his knuckles, a really bad sign his father had told him when he talked about his many stories of being a cop. He could never really figure out why people cracked their knuckles to seem intimidating, it was silly to him. All the same, his hand twitched towards his gun, but he forced himself to hold back and relax. He had to acess the situation first instead of jumping to conclusions. He trusted his gut that whatever was going to happen would not be pretty and probably he would have to intervene in some way. He grimaced thinking about how most likely he would not be listened to, after all he was only one cop and most thugs didn't care of you waved around a gun badge. He just hoped that he wouldn't really have to shoot anyone.

[Bad Wolf]

Muscles, as Reza had arbitrarily decided to label that big man, was clearly walking toward him with quite the purpose fueling his steps. It would be best not to show that he was actually a bit intimidated, so Reza casually took another sip of his drink. He knew he was already a bit inebriated, and one more sip wasn't going to hurt. Besides, the blood was good for him.

Upon reaching Reza, Muscles got right in his face and said in a gruff voice, "The Bishop sends her regards." As soon as he finished with that message, he drew back his fist and attempted to punch Reza with startling speed and power. Reza, though, managed to duck out of the way. Barely.

The fist struck the bar, making a huge dent in the hardwood surface. And Muscles wasn't even wearing brass knuckles or anything of the sort. He kept on swinging at Reza, who was doing everything he could to keep dodging those punches. It was a challenge, though, considering the alcohol he'd consumed tonight. Bad timing for an attack.

Thinking as quickly as possible, Reza turned and fled the bar. Taking the fight outside seemed to be the best choice. Fewer humans around, though it looked like some idiots wanted to stick around and watch the fight. Morons. They were only making Reza's life more difficult.

Muscles followed him out, grabbing onto the back of Reza's coat before swinging him around and slamming him against the side of the building. That hurt more than Reza would care to mention, and he staggered a moment after the hit, dazed. He felt a hard punch strike him in the side of the face and he went down, his vision getting a bit weird.

He felt Muscles dragging him back up, those too-strong arms maneuvering into a painful hold that felt like it was pulling Reza apart. Muscles seemed to find the situation funny, since he chuckled darkly before remarking, "And I thought your kind were supposed to be tough."

Point taken. Now it was time for Reza to fight back. He'd been given ample opportunity to set up for this, and now he was going to make Muscles very unhappy.

With just a bit of focus--not easy, considering his pain and drunken state--Reza started wreaking havoc on Muscles's blood vessels. Without even touching them. That certainly startled the big man, and he cursed as he let go of Reza.

The invisible attack didn't cease, though. Reza just kept on focusing as much as he could, willing this assault to continue. And Muscles was already starting to have a bit of trouble moving. Lovely. Time to finish him off then.

With that in mind, Reza drew his scimitar and turned to face Muscles with one final strike in mind. Of course, the scimitar had gotten quite the reaction out of the crowd that had gathered around them...

[Tenebrae16]

Nathan started the moment the bulky muscular man swung his fist down onto the wooden bar surface, his hand going to his gun and watched stunned for a moment at the two. His eyes drawn to the dent in the wood, the man hadn't had any sort of weapon either only his fists and yet he had never seen anyone punch so hard before. He supposed alcohol, drugs and steroids was probably to blame for this somewhat incredible feat of human strength. The other man, the one clad in black, was also rather impressive, dodging all those punches so lightly on his feet even after more than one glass of alcohol Nathan was sure. Between the muscular brute and the deadly grace of the his opponent, he wasn't sure which was the more dangerous of the two and there was a bad feeling in his gut telling him he would find out soon of not immediately.

He was glad when the two took the fight to outside, the bar was full of drunken giggly teens that were still considered bystanders and civilians that Nathan didn't want to get hurt both from job duty and his own conscience. He followed them our, gun kept hidden still, just in time to see the musucular one slam the other into a wall. He drew his gun, watching the muscular one suddenly stumble backwards, seemingly suddenly disorientated or whatever was the problem he was not sure. What he knew though was that this didn't seem like an ordinary drunken bar fight especially from the way they were both moving, even if one of them might be on steroids they were both definitely sober and the fight was not without purpose he could tell.

His thoughts were further confirmed and his curiosity further aroused as he watched the dark clad man pull out a curved saber and he raised his gun pushing through the crowd. "Stop! Police!" He shouted loudly and felt the crowd's eyes draw onto him as he firmly stood his ground, gun raised and held steady. Though it seemed one of them was injured though not visibly so he probably would have to send him to a hospital despite the fact that the other should have been the injured one with being slammed into a wall and all. In a loud, commanding voice he continued to bellow loudly, "Drop the weapon now!"

[Bad Wolf]

Reza glanced over at the officer in surprise when the man shouted at them and told him to drop his sword. Well that wasn't going to happen. What did happen was his concentration got broken by the sudden turn of events, and therefore he was no longer subjecting Muscles to more damaged arteries. Such a shame.

Definitely a shame, since now Muscles had time to recover. In fact, while Reza was distracted, he slipped on a punch knife and rushed at Reza with alarming speed. He swung his fist at Reza's chest, and Reza only had enough time to avoid a direct hit to his heart before that blade cut into him.

The force of the punch sent him back into the wall, the knife slipping from his chest as he staggered back. Muscles wasn't done, though. Instead, he ran in after Reza to give him an upward punch, the blade digging in below Reza's ribs such that the punch lifted him off the ground and flung him over Muscles's head. Muscles followed through, driving Reza along with his fist and slamming the impaled man into the ground with a painful thud and a choked gasp from Reza.

There were shouts from the watching crowd, ranging from screams to "Oh shit, man!"s. For very obvious reasons, Reza was being quite slow to get up. And Muscles was pulling his fist back for another punch. If ever there was a time for that gun to be used, this was it.

Of course, the gun wasn't going to do much good in this case.

[Tenebrae16]

"Damn.." Nathan Muttuered to himself and aimed the gun at the brute, letting lose two bullets straight at his chest. Every time he fired his gun, be it at the gun range or in a dangerous situation, he thanked the fact that he had been taught how to use one by his father from young. Another shot rang out loud as he aimed at his arm, if two bullets in the chest didn't slow him down, at least he would have trouble punching people with one bleeding arm. Right now though, his main focus was not in the brute, but rather on what appeared to now be the 'victim' in the fight. It was stupid of him to have assumed or rather just hoped that the brute was dazed and not ready to fight, but the bleeding roughed up man on the floor proved it not to be so.

His gun still aimed at them, he flipped out his phone and speed dialed the station, telling them to send another cop to help take care of the crowd and called in an ambulance as well. There were casualties no doubt, but how serious were the injuries of both of them, he was unsure though once ha known of people who had lived through fun and knife wounds through their chest. Again, he could only hope that their would be no deaths here, he worked to disable not kill people who went against the law and disrupted the peace. Moving closer, gun still out, he bent down next to the dark clad man, glad he still seemed to be breathing and trying to get up.

"Don't move," He said, but now without the authority of the law in his voice. "An ambulance is on the way, don't strain the injuries anymore." He didn't let himself sound too concerned though, after all he had seen the curved saber the man had carried and he noticed said weapon a few feet away. He should bag it for evidence and he would, later, after he made sure that both men were not going to spring up and kill him the moment his guard wa lowered.

[Bad Wolf]

The two gunshots to Muscles didn't seem to even phase him. He didn't show any signs that the wounds even hurt. But it seemed like he was reconsidering this fight, and he cursed under his breath before running away. He was fast--too fast--and in moments he was out of sight.

The crowd had dispersed as soon as the gunshots were fired, not wanting to be anywhere near it. Smart of them. No one wanted to be shot accidentally. But now that they were gone--either home or back into the bar--it was just Reza and the cop left outside.

Reza managed to sit up, wincing as his wounds protested the movement. He knew he was hurt badly, but he also knew that he'd survive. Without being taken to a hospital. Honestly, that was about the worst thing that could happen to him. Being hooked up to a heart monitor would be a disaster...

"I don't need to go to a hospital," he said to the cop, his voice sounding strained. He really wasn't making a good case for himself. "Please, just help me up and get me a cab..." He needed to go back to his home. His elders would be able to do far more for him than a hospital could.

[Tenebrae16]

"You were impaled through the chest, I think it's best you go to a hospital sir. You were also carrying a weapon and involved in a fight that showed no sign of being provoked before being initiated." He said sternly, helping the man up all the same. He wasn't going to let anyone walk away injured, even of they weren't the least bit suspicious. "An ambulance is already on the way." He looked over at the wound, afraid to touch it invade there were any broken ribs from being slammed into a wall. If he tried to stem the bleeding, who knew how many bones he could accidentally break. No, it was best to wait for the ambulance and leave it to the trained paramedics.

For now, he would just stay and not try to pursue the running brute, not when there was an injured man who might just run away. He knew when to let prey go and how to pursue them later. It was what his fathe had taught him as well, though those lessons were more from the tales his father told when he took a break from being a cop and went out of home to hunt during hunting sessions. Either way, the rules applied to both sports. Perhaps in a way they applied to life, but Nathan wasn't that philosophical and wasn't planning to meditate much on life lessons after his job, no the only thing he would do after this was go home and relax after a nice shower.

He bit back a sigh and told himself to focus on the matter at hand. No time to think about relaxing, not when he was in such a situation. Absolute concentration as what he had been trained for and he was not going to let all his father's training slip by him. It was only cause of his father was he out in the field now. He was young, maybe too young for a cop, but with his father there to train and advise him, he had advanced quickly. He wasn't going to let his father done now in any way even with the smallest slip up.