Garsin just simply used the little door at the end of the bar counter. "Never talk back to an opponent," he could remember his father telling him years ago, "They crave for an opening when they try to talk. Instead, use their loud mouth as an opening against them." When Garsin came within arms reach of Twix, he watched for Twix's shoulders and hips for any movement.

 If Twix would make a strike with his knife he would deflect the strike at Twix's wrist with the back of his own. In that movement, he could catch the man's wrist and deal a palm blow to his elbow, breaking his arm and forcing him to drop the weapon. He would then kick the knife away and attempt to grapple the man to the floor, putting his knee in the small of his back. from there he would commence in trying to disarm the gun.

If he tried to turn the gun, he planned to shield himself with his gauntlet and then back hand the gun away, he would then use the same arm to launch a blow to the man's head with a hammer fist, keeping his other arm ready to deflect the blade should he try it then as well.

If he tried to kick, he would grab his leg and sweep the other from under him.

If he didn't react at all, he would keep the knife-side arm in a defensive manner and get in close. should he try to use the knife then, he would grab his arm with the outside arm and turn his chest parallel to that arm. He would bring his right arm up and then bring his metal elbow crashing down on Twix's head.

The glass on his helmet had already been shot at, he smirked at the thought of a knife doing anything other than nicking the outside. However, Garsin never underestimated any enemy. To him nobody ever died from overestimating a foe. Even though, to Garsin, the man seemed drunk, he was on full alert, sweet adrenaline kicking in.

Garsin then engaged Twix.

((OOC:Editted for my horrible late night grammar, egad))