So this was Rhydin"

Big Sexxxy, as he was notably called by the multitudes back home, stroked his light goatee as he admired some of the more eye-catching sites on his way west. Not bad. Not bad at all.

Scorp had been traveling for nearly two months to reach his destination. His ship had docked last night and now he was on horseback heading due West. Two months was not a small drop of time to be away from home and even farther away from the treasured comforts that lied therein. Sure there were no worries, no business related headaches, but also no real hands on backup either.

Oh well, he thought, such is life as a gangster. Businessman, entrepreneur, blah blah blah blah. When it came down to it, Scorpion Wraitharan was a glorified gangster, criminal and assassin. Period. On the other hand he was a very sharp dresser, so it all balanced out at the end of the day. Always the cool exterior.

So here he was, a long way from home and in a strange land. Why' What the hell was he doing here" What in the name of all that was sensible lured him away from pending profits, his loyal crew, unchecked underworld power, and (certainly not the least of all) hot women"

One word: Issy.

Perhaps the only person who could literally drag him out of his own controlled, protective zone and into the distant limelight of some far away place. Okay....no perhaps about it....she was the only one who could.

When he first read the dispatch she had sent him four months ago, he was a bit annoyed to say the least. After all, it was she who took off so suddenly two years ago without so much as a face to face goodbye. They had plans that winter night. He had waited for her at their favorite restaurant in Metro City, Odyssey's Rest, for nearly three hours before finally returning home to his keep only to discover that a simple letter had been slipped under the main door. The letter contained some of the usual female babble about how they truly were not good for one another and how he could find better. There were some vague references to them as a couple bringing out their worst inner qualities, and a load of other crap he didn't even want to get into. Finally, she briefly named a few reasons why she had to leave and why her goddess Scathach would favor some new set of spiritual journeys which she had to make.

Okay. Great.

This new letter however, said she needed help. That was four damn months ago. Of course, his confidants and higher ranking soldiers/friends in his organization were all against him leaving Metro.

"F%*k her!" was one blatant response from his right hand man SlapJack. "She's nothing but trouble Scorp. She constantly f***s with your head and then takes off. Sure man she's hot, but she's not good for business and she is definitely no good for you. Let that crazy bitch go and play hero somewhere else.....let's face it brother, we are no muthaf@$%&n heroes. We put bitch-ass heroes to rest."

What could he say, Slap was dead on. Issy, no matter how dark and brooding she could be, was a Scathachian. And Scathachians, despite being a crew of incredibly gorgeous and tantalizing women, were lethal Judges who fiercely upheld the entire concept of justice.

No matter how ludicrous this concept seemed to Scorp on most occasions. It was a fine line that he and Issy had walked together and one that usually ended in a rough blow-up of some kind. His work was not a playful barn of bunnies by any means, and "justice" was not on the top of his list when it came to business in Metro.

Nonetheless, she sent word; reached out and here he was. The crew always said she would be his downfall; he even dared to use the f*%$@n "L? word one time. That was a near fatal mistake in his world. Scorp got his head together quickly after that.

The Club Blue

The man behind the counter was by no means tall. Not even for Rhydin. Hell in Rhydin he was concidered a short f*cker at only 5'10. On the other hand he was almost as wide as he was tall. Not to many could weigh in at his height at 200lbs. Mami's beans and rice did him good and the wife beater that held a blue glow from the black lights did show it off.

With a roll of the tooth pick from one side of his mouth to the other, he watched his club. Lica stood to the right pouring up drinks. He'd talked baby girl into quitting dancing. But she knew too many of the joes to ask her to quit. She brought in some of the good money even behind the bar.

Hands planted on the bartop, his narrow dark eyes went from one girl to the next then the front door as it opened. he always liked this view. He could pick out a Joe from a squatter the second they entered.

Big Sexxxy walked in the front door of Club Blue. After looking around momentarily, he settled into true form. Blue was just like any popular bar back in Metro: Seedy.....hazy.....loud.....and always housing hidden opportunities laced with lethal dangers. Gotta love the streets.

His dark eyes quickly found the club's proprietor, governing over the chaotic fray before him. The funny thing about Sanchez was his seemingly stoic demeanor while overseeing. One might think he was focusing on a single particular spot in the room or on a lone individual who happened to catch his shifty eye. Wrong. Sanchez saw everything in his domain. No matter how slight or slick the trick, Dirty was all over it. Scorp always admired this about him; and this ability had served both of them well over the years while doing business in Metro City.

He was glad to see his old comrade. They had made a load of profits back in the day, and Scorp was always a bit disappointed that Sanchez had decided to head to the streets of RhyDin in order to set up shop. But hey, it was all business and Scorp completely understood Dirty's reasoning. That being said, he could already feel the familiarity returning. He'd set up fast with Sanchez, and then find out all of the details on Issy and her new friends.

Issy....what the @#%*@#% could she be into now"! Those Scathachians were a dangerous and feisty bunch to say the very least....she, however, was damn near uncontrollable. Well, in time everything would be carefully unfolded for him to see and to analyze. Patience always ruled out. No exceptions.

Scorp sauntered over to the bar, noting the watchful position of RhyDin's "Dirty Dogg" and his gorgeous bombshell of a sidekick, Lica. He watched the deadly blonde at work before finding an empty spot at the bar. The Big Man sat down silently, and placed his black-gloved hands on the well-made bar top. Scorp's commanding voice, dripping with the usual egotism, spoke above the background noise directly to The Club Blue's owner: "So.....what?s a real gangster have to do to get some action around here??

nWo was still in the proverbial house.......Just Too Sweet.

Dirty and Scorp were both thrilled to cross paths once again; and after pleasantries were exchanged, they voraciously indulged in liquor and in reminiscing on days past. The outrageous club continued to pulse with energy, alcohol steadily flowed, and the buxom women grew more lovely, if not wilder, by the minute.

The Big Man spoke with Sanchez for well over three hours before getting up to leave. The Dirty Dogg had of course agreed to set Scorp up with anything he needed during his stay in RhyDin; all the necessary means would naturally be at his disposal to engage in both pleasure and business. Within no time, Scorp would track down Issy and handle his dealings within this eccentric city. Before leaving, Scorpion had told Sanchez that he would be back to The Blue again the following night to finalize some further arrangements; until then Dirty had dispatched some of his people to ensure that Scorp would be staying at the luxurious Vander' Wall Inn. One would never catch The Big Man staying in meager holes.

After catching up with his boy, it was time to head to his temporary home and dig in. Scorp's mind was still resting heavily on Issy. Really, why had she sent for him, now" What the hell was that damnable woman cooking up this time, and what did she have in mind for him' Issy was a tough one to read; her motives could be sincere or just a whim of hers that came and went with her varying moods. If I-Maxx had called him all the way out here just to let him know she was involved with some other guy, he would be less than enamored. Surly, that would certainly warrant The Big Man to crack open that particular little bastard's skull on his way to boarding the ship which would carry his "ever-fine" ass back to Metro. Make no bones about it, an outsider to this land or not, Scorp would inflict violence without hesitation. Jealousy and profits were two things that stalked hand in hand with this Metro City gangster. Perhaps it was bluntly immature, but it was him. Take it or leave it. Hey, everything would be exposed in due time.

Big Sexxxy heavily smacked fists with the dangerous brute behind the bar, and assertively strolled to the door. He had wanted to walk to his temporary crib tonight; always had to check out his surroundings. Scorp constantly had a keen eye for finding the true value within the most unlikely of sources, and this shady WestEnd was no exception.

On his way out, he took a measured study of the inhabitants partying in Club Blue. Earlier in the evening, his dark eyes had fallen upon a certain man whose style he immediately took notice of. He was sharply dressed with a shirt that was simple enough, but it was the word which was scrawled on it that snagged Scorp's attention. The strong letters plainly read "WolfPac". Very interesting, Scorp thought, a reference from back home in Metro. Coincidence? Most likely, but nothing was to be overlooked.

In addition, he had noticed that the stranger was intensely casing him since he had walked in.....the man's eyes were careful, and they never left him and Dirty while they were catching up. The new arrival's style was certainly quite unlike that of the other punks in here, and he carried himself differently too. He held a certain confidence and arrogance that a true player would possess or that a seasoned warrior would tote. This man appeared unquestionably quite tough and he was foundationally self-assured. Scorp hated him already.

The Don Mega strode out of The Blue and hit the dim city streets. His black-gloved fingers stroked his goatee and a typical narcissistic smirk was plastered on his face. This whole place, and particularly this area of town, had quite an abundance of potential. Perhaps he would take Dirty up on his lucrative business consolidation proposals which were discussed this evening. After all, Scorp could see that the WestEnd was exceptionally solid and that it held the correct underground connections which could perfectly power an organization such as his. It was clear, however, that this WestEnd would of course require a real makeover, and Scorpion was already envisioning its new style: boldly painted black and white with nWo emblems all over it.

Yep....The night was far from over.

It's from a distance that the detective sights Hope moving in to intercept the big guy. Both are interesting....but not that interesting tonight. Not in this context. Alain's heard tell that Club Blue is the place to be, where good information is bought and sold. DNA analysis was a dead-end; the Star's End lab couldn't get a good sample from the serial killer on her victim's severed tongue. As a private investigator with no leads to speak of and only a very sketchy profile of the killer (familiar with Scathachian symbolism' skilled warrior" 'art' about the kill" likes a doomed audience" possible fetish"), the young man was turning to his hunches, in hopes he could solve the case before it made him feel any older. His hunch' Gossip. Maybe it wasn't in the killer's style for him to leave a living audience, so maybe he wasn't the type to brag....but if there was anyone who had witnessed any of these events and survived" It would make quite the story, bragging from atop a barstool.

It was a hunch....but maybe it was also fate that brought him there. Guided his booted feet past the ivory vixen and the big guy. Both were eyed up, but not for too long, and he stalked on to Club Blue, the tails of his long brown duster lifting with a breeze. His dark red button-up was left partway unbuttoned....easy to reach inside and grab whatever might be concealed there if necessary. He slows his steps to come in with a pack of barflies, a few thirty-something guys aiming to get lucky. Eyes adjust to the change in lighting and ears to the noisy din as he enters right behind them and then breaks off to find a table all of his own. He checks out the corners....the socialists have one, debating wages and liberty in hushed voices....and then, he finds Brian Ravenlock. He never stops, though, and never gets near the man. Instead he puts himself at an angle away from him, not too great an angle for watching him....but a pretty good one for watching whoever might be watching him.

Kitty had mentioned what case the mercenary Ravenlock was on. One hunch led to another. Was Brian here for the same reason as Alain" And if so....would anyone be watching the young man from the darkness? He slouches some in his seat, hands jammed into his coat pocket, and his blue eyes never stop moving.

"I got three worlds for ya....We're taken over!"

So many players gathered in one place...What was a straight man, who was acting like he had mad sugar in his tank to play off the affections, and greed of a WestEnd girl, to get close to his 'mark' to do?"" More so, with some familiar presences in the vicinity this very well may be something far more interesting than what he had first thought. But, back to the meat and taters, if you will...

Brian raised a brow, leaned into 'Maxxie' with a playful smirk, as he looked between her, and the big man...Regardless of Bri's more relaxed demeanor, his brain was processing a great many scenarios and none of them would end up in a good way for him, if this went south...Especially given the fact that a particular young male and even more particular female were also present in the establishment. Just a few glances told Brian it was already known he stood out in the eyes of the big man, and others. As it stood, it was rather obvious that Brian stood out to an extent in the eyes of the big man, especially with the attention his shirt seemed to have recieved. Which in the end, may be just what he wanted, as he recalled stories of 'Metro' and the 'NWO', along with it's various spin offs.

So all that aside, the 'sugary' gimmick was tossed, as Bri's naturally deep voice kicked in to the surprise of 'Maxxie', as he grilled her a bit. Of course she really didn't have too much information, and Bri truthfully expected that to a degree...Well she didn't have info on the big guy, but the latino was another matter and a another deft donation of plat yielded some nice results that Bri hoped to put to some use in regards to the mystery man, and his agenda. But the others...Now that was another matter entirely...Bri's senses were as keen as ever, coupled with his latent elven traits, specifically his hearing and night vision and each served him well this evening.

Alain....The young PI's entrance had been noted, even from within the pack of barflies that headed inside. Alain simply stood apart, not only in the way he carried himself, but in his overall presence. Then again, Brian had been hunting a long time, and it came natural to make note of someone or something of presence, failure to do so could result in not so nice things. Brian hated that...So Alain was indeed paid attention to, in regards to his most fluid movements, and the interesting angle he took from his darkened perch of sorts. Brian figured Alain leaped on board as well, as so many others have in turn. The more the merrier, so long as his toes were not stepped on, and it didn't end up on his door step, Brian could care less. Then, came the female...

The Guilder...Brian recalled her gloved hands, as he took them into his own that night...The way she reacted, her overall demeanor...The insistance on having a dinner for Isuelt, and more so...She was a definate interest in the eyes of the Elder Ravenlock, and something he had kept an eye on with the help of his 'fratello', one Kerrithra aka, the Mithra of Mayhem. Brian smiled to himself, as he leaned to 'Maxxie' once more, and laced soft words to her ears...A hand lifted to allow nimble digits to trail along the dancer's arm, as yet more plat coins somehow ended up in her hand, as the journey's end of the digits. A somewhat puzzled look from the dancer, as Brian nodded once more to her in assurance. And like that, she kissed his cheek, and he kissed hers in return and chuckled as he eyed the stud clicking female once more for a brief moment, as 'Maxxie' headed right towards Krysira...

It was that time, that Brian noted the big man's regarding glances and silent gauging of himself once more, and with that Brian decided all bets were off and it was time for business to pick up, regardless of the others. The big man headed to the door, and Brian in turn reached out and grabbed a waitress, and a quick request was made in the form of a whisper and transfer of coinage, and with a wink and nod the cute lil' honey bomb was on her way, with a drink in hand to one darkened seat, and more importantly one studious young man that occupied said seat. Bri hoped Alain, liked a good 'Shirley Temple' as much as the next person on the job,as Brian assumed the young man was indeed working.

"Heya's Missy...Burnsie Baby, says you are in need of a good time, and I got that in spades. Lemme show ya what a good woman can do for ya, yea?"

And with that said, 'Maxxie' arrived in front of Krysira, and proceeded to begin one seductive dance that was just for her, as the young bombshell proceeded to wiggle her chest and hips, coupled with a bit of grindage here and there, and looked to be enjoying herself to no end, of course this also drew that attention of various patrons who assumed some 'GoG' or Girl on Girl for those who like it said normally, was going to take place. And with that possibility the gathered shifted to the stage, as the dancer who Krysira had a nice view of, joined in making it a three way dance. Brian simply grinned to himself, and on any other day...Well if it were over a year ago, and he didn't have JenJen, he would have easily lead the male charge, like the dog he was. But today was not that kinda of a day, and he was a different dawg these days.

"I can't believe you did that...Man, do you want to get caught?"

Brian chuckled to himself, and stood once more. His eyes panned back to see what looked to be a shadow in motion, and little else. The shift in air pressure was a giveaway, as he nodded to himself and spoke softly knowing Kerri would indeed hear.

"Maybe, I am....Maybe I am indeed. Anyways, game on."

While the other waitress was serving Alain, Brian offered a deft two fingered salute to the PI, and made for the door, as the big man burst through and yet another presence set his senses off...Muttering a somewhat curse, Brian followed suit and burst through the door and collided quite solidly right into the big man, and nearly collided into the female speaking with him, who he recognized from a previous encounter. Righting himself, Brian squared up as he eyed the big man once more, this time closer than ever and decided this was it..

"You make a habit of blocking doors all night or what?"

Knowing if it went south he simply went for it...Granted it was not the original plan by any means, but something gnawed at Brian Ravenlock this evening, and he couldn't put a finger on it...Maybe a kindred or what not, either way he could hear a familar Mithran voice on the wind.

"Aw hell....He Leeroyed it...He f*cking Leeroyed it.."

The tattoos around her eyes buckled, the ink overlapping. Krysira's expression became pinched. She was now trying to spy past the voluptuous "present" dancing in front of her. "Get out of my way, you f*cking whore!" she griped. But it really was no use; the woman was intent on her entertainment value. Ravenlock was onto the thief, that much was obvious. Krysira wasn't sure how much he knew, or how much he would spill. Probably nothing, she told herself. Still, it was hard to gather bonafide information when someone knew they were on display.

"Damnit....God....damnit!" and now there was some guy looking towards her direction with haste written all over his features. "Hey, honey," Krysira sharply pushed past the dancer, "I ain't interested. Try him!" She pointed to Alain and spun on her heel, making for the door.

It was only coincidental that her overturned chair slammed into the exotic performer nearly knocking her over. "Hey, watch it, bitch!" was the departing salutation of the stripper.

The thief's long legged body walked more quickly than was her usual loping gait. She had something she had to do; and she wasn't looking forward to it. Her Grandmother used to say that the pain of a dreaded chore was halved if one did it in half the time.

Well, Grandmother, Krysira thought, we'll see.

She wasn't wearing much in the way of protection from the elements, she had always thought of it as a waste. Why in the hell would I be outdoors if the weather blows" That had always been her motto. But now, Krysira was sure she'd be shivering even if she had all the furs in the world on her back. Something about knowing she was going to see Nocent always had an adverse effect on the girl from Guller's Creek.

In truth, she was hoping that she could get out of this. Even just hoping she could get out of this without mortal injury. Nocent definitely had an appetite for the perverse when it came to violence and murder. And the bitches in the Sanctuary were sniffing around more than ever. And they had their little errand boys sniffing around with them. Krysira rolled her eyes thinking about Ravenlock and those other two. That tall one, that's the one that just got into town. He had come by ship. Scorpion something. What the hell kind of name was that' And the other one, D"Mourir. She had researched him before, some sort of arms dealer or something.

Whatever. To Krysira, the only thing that mattered now was spilling what information she had to Nocent, letting her do as she would with it, then getting the hell out of town. She knew what Nocent had told her before about splitting, but hell, she couldn't think of a single person who wouldn't blow in her position. Even her long-dead Grandmother.

Her steps carried her faster, deeper into the WestEnd.

"Survey Says...One More For the Good Guys!"

First night in a strange town...no Issy to be found...time was wasting...look what curvy prize the city streets dragged in.

The Don Mega stopped short when he heard the smooth, airy voice reach his ears. Instantly he was torn from his daydream of transforming the entire West End into the black and white laden empire of nWo territory. Not only was a new fox standing in front of him, but one that was hotter than proverbial Hell.

Scorp took a long and hard look at the bombshell blocking his path. She was absolutely gorgeous. And those legs! Look at those god @#$*# shapely legs. Damn it NWO-ites, they went on "til next week. He smirked at her with his usual egotistical sneer before quickly responding: "I'm much harder than a drink of water doll...a strong, stiff drink indeed."

The Big Man took a step closer to the cleverly disguised kindred before speaking again: "So gorgeous, where are you heading to on this wisp of a night. Wherever it is, I hope you have a license for those weapons you're slinging ma'am.." With those words he nodded his head in the direction of her "ample assets".

Before he could continue on with his cocky verbal barrage to the attractive vampiress, Scorp suddenly felt Brian Ravenlock slam into his back as he pushed out of the door of Club Blue. The irony was raw. Despite how the collision would be perceived, perhaps Brian had in fact saved The Don Mega from successfully picking up this dangerous female passerby, ironically named Hope.

Yup. Bri saved him from picking her up, and saved him from becoming the kindred's "West End Midnight Snack." Kinda funny if you think about it. Some situations will forever remain paradoxical.

Scorp promptly turned his attention from Hope and looked around to face Brian. Before he could even respond, Brian fired at him with sarcastic, clipped words: "You make a habit of blocking doors all night or what?"

Unreal.

First full f***ing night in this bulls**t city and already it was time to punk someone. All he was trying to do was cement things with Dirty, track down his estranged girl Isuelt, and, naturally, establish some kind of business network. Now it had to come to this f***en nonsense. He didn't even know the f***ing rules and regulations here in town. Ah, to hell with it. Like he and The Pack always said: Rules And Bones Were Meant To Be Broken.

Scorp rubbed his goatee one time with his black gloved fist before responding with an arrogant smirk: "No brother...only half the night. The other half I spend breaking the asses of wannabe thugs."

With that, Big Sexxxy tightly gripped Brian Ravenlock's shirt and sharply hoisted him from off of the ground. Utilizing his muscular arms and seven foot plus frame, the gangster extraordinaire held forcefully to Brian's styled WolfPack shirt. Scorpion's ebon-gloved fists clenched as he quickly readied the young Ravenlock for a Metro City asskicking.

He was big, yes. He was also very fast. You had to be to roll bigtime in Metro. Size and speed went hand in hand. Those who hesitate, they get punked.

First night in a strange town...still no Issy...still no time...looks like a rumble in those same city streets.

Probably will attract unwanted attention. F**k it. You know the game: nWo 4 Life.

The Club Blue

At home in dark purple shadows she looked on. The comings and goings, the seedier tones to a Town. Examining eyes assessed the fronts put up, the razz-pop flicker flicker of old lightbulbs. A lopsided smile skipped-hop-danced onto her lips.

A fingerless gloved hand balled under her chin while her other lifted and lowered her mug of Dwarven Ale as it was intermittently sampled. All was peachy, oh and how she loved watching stories unfold.



Shessair

"And Luger....you're goin' down!" "Hey Scott, down where?" "Hey Luger...down HERE!" <BANG>



Motherf***er!

Scorp was very impressed (though he would never admit it) with the amazing speed of this son of a bitch in front of him. The stranger's strong body had gone limp so quickly; that he simply slid from his shirt as though he were greased to the nines. Remarkable dexterity. The Don Mega gripped the empty shirt as he watched this stranger pull on his gloves. This tough bastard was officially calling him out.

Big Sexxxy was already annoyed with the way things were rolling since he had stepped foot out of Dirty's "happy little bar". There was this hot, but slightly pale, chick standing by and watching this like a predatory hawk; now this uber-athletic thug was ready to throw down with him in front of The Blue.

Alright then, time to see what the street brawlers here in the WestEnd of RhyDin were made of. Scorp haughtily tossed aside the man's black and red shirt and ominously cracked his knuckles which were inside of his own tightly-fitting ebon gloves.

Scorp's technical mind went to work, and he immediately began to plan this whole dance out: 'Let him flaunt his high-flying acrobatics. He's quick. He'll land his shots. Sure, they'll sting. But keep pace with him, and let him throw hard. Maneuver with your size and get him boxed in. Box him in....then jackknife his ass. Period. Lights out, nWo-style. Just too sweet.'

'Let's do this.'

'Hold up Big Daddy.'

'What the hell was that"'

Around the stranger's neck there was that small silver medallion, in the shape of a pair of scales, and set behind those scales were twin swords. Damn it. A Scathachian tag. No doubt there at all.

Okay, this changes things entirely. No way any mere man stole Scathachian property and then dared to flaunt it. That was a delightful recipe for certain death or slow castration at the very least. So was this agile and outspoken fighter and ally of the Sisters here in RhyDin"

Quite damn possible. Issy mentioned some guy in her letter who was with one of the younger Priestesses, Jenai. Brian was his name. Yes, Brian Ravenlock.

The Don Mega smirked. How irony does love to play its out-of-tune fiddle. Someday, Scorp swore that he'd break that painful f***en fiddle and shove it up ole' Irony's ripe ass.

Speaking of asses, he knew that Issy would literally break his ass and choke him unconscious (for starters) if he ended up hurting one of her friends over some trifle shit like being hit in the back with a door. Unreal. 'Better square this away before it gets out of hand', he thought.

Scorp upnodded to the agitated Brian Ravenlock as he spoke, "Hey yo...calm down big man. I normally don't much care for guys with longer hair than me, but I'm eyeing your necklace bro. The scales and swords, it's Scathachian, right"

Don't bother to answer, I know it is. I don't claim to understand how the hell you got that fancy pendant, but I can tell you cleanly, that I too am in service to the Scathachians...and in more ways than one."

He had to throw that in. Just had to. His colossal ego demanded no less. The Big Man went on as his voice picked up its Metro rhythm , "I'm assuming you are Mr. Brian Ravenlock. In fact, I hope you are 'Good Mr. Ravenlock', so we can get the hell back to smokin' and drinkin' before this gets uglier than Luger and the Giant.

The name's Scorp. And I came all the way from the big MC to see one lovely, but testy Sacathachian warrior. She goes by Isuelt DeRomiano or simply Issy. I can't find her yet. So brother, what I would appreciate is less name-calling, less vulgarity, less damn door slamming in my f***en back, and more positive direction. Now that being said, no need to take a little survey here; can you help me out or what?"

Hope's plan to sit and watch the table tennis match starring Brian Ravenlock and the Tall Drink of Water was quickly unraveling. A horde of mindless, drunken rabbles was entering from upstage left. How droll.

On the other hand...

Nothing livened up a good dialogue like a fight scene.

The willowy and painted kindred winked to the big man, her voice cooing like a dove, "Getting my fists wet is something I do often. Though for entirely different reasons." Let the brute figure that one out. A smirk for the Ravenlock as she swaggered in his direction with seemingly seamless movements, "I like a rumble as much as the next girl. Plus, it gives me a chance to check you out from a different angle."

And what was more, the two strapping examples of manhood were mentioning Scathachians. Those equally strapping woman were quite a topic around here lately. In all honesty, Hope was more in the mood for play that didn't revolve around females.

At least...not right now.

Hope's imposing form turned to face the drunken men erupting from The Blue like from a sausage factory. Physically, what she lacked in girth, she more than made up for in height. Those other abilities of hers would more than likely come into play later.

"Hello boys. Looking for some autographs?" flitted the lithe voice of the actress.