Felisa Espinosa: "Gotta learn sometime," she said, smirking, "you just name the place and you can bat me around like a tennis ball. It's education, so I can't get TOO mad at you."
She looked over at the woman. Goddamn, everybody was a sexy brute but her, seemed like.

Andrea Angotti: "Whatever." She snorts and orders a shot of tequila. Drunk's or buzzing's about the only way she makes it through work lately.

Felisa Espinosa: ((Description: She's Puerto Rican, and the mixture of african, indian, spanish and french bloodlines mixed together to form a olive-skinned melting pot of a woman. She's pretty but not overly beautiful, the type of woman that you would try to continue conversation with if she walked up to you and asked the time, not that she would do such, or that you would ask her once you saw the hip-hop clothes, baggy pants and hoodie, an overall thug look. She's fairly avarage in height and weight, perhaps a touch taller than the typical Puerto Rican, with dirty brown hair and dark eyes that hint at a savage intellegence. App: 3))

Gunther Kasimir Berg: He shakes his head with a pleading look to spitfire. "The fuck is it with New York bitches wantin ta touch up on my ugly ass? Gonna get me fuckin killt."

Andrea Angotti: "Get over yourself." Andy grins slightly and downs the shot, licking tequilla from her lips. "You ain't my type."

Spitfire: He grins at Felisa about to say something else as his attention is drawn away by Gunthers threat. He looks at Andrea his eyes flicking over her form. She looks good for a rumble.

Spitfire: "And what is you type?" He calls out to Andrea, sat one leg up on the table, the other crossed over it "Cos if it ain't Gunther, why the fuck you in a metal bar?"

Felisa Espinosa: "Those hippies got it out for you bad, seems like. Never thought I'd hear myself say that, or a bunch of other things, but that's not important really. Fuck it though, I think the misunderstanding will unravel like yarn soon enough."

Gunther Kasimir Berg: He snorts, leaning back against the bar "Thank fuckin god. Last thing I need is ta worry bout some other crazy slut wantin ta climb up on my johnson. My bitch'd tear yer damn throat out.. then come after me."

Andrea Angotti: She leans back and flicks her eyes over Spitfire, her grin widening. "I like the music, hot stuff."

Gunther Kasimir Berg: He shrugs, looking to Felisa. "Ja, go figure. I always thought hippie fags was all about tha love an drugs an shit. I'm down with that. Ain'ta bad guy. Ain't see why I been pissin so many people off."

Spitfire: He smirks, cold brown eyes looking up at her, the main man himself has taken notice. "Then whats up with Gunther, he is big and strong." He grins kicking Gunther arm slightly "And has a way with women."

Felisa Espinosa: "Goodness knows man, you're a saint. I figured there'd be a church with your name on it somewhere in town, full of bald catholic school girls."
She rolled her eyes and snickered.

Andrea Angotti: "And dumb as a brick."

Gunther Kasimir Berg: He smirks to Felisa "That'd be tha shit." He scowls to Spitfire. "Man.. at's fuckt up. You want ta get me killt.. dontcha? Dick." He smirks and gives him a shove.

Gunther Kasimir Berg: He gives a defensive look to andrea "Ain't all at dumb. Just ain't spend my time on stupid shit. Gunther knows lotsa stuff."

Andrea Angotti: "Its a'ight, Gunther, I'm messin." She flashes the big man a dry look, her baby blue eyes wide.

Spitfire: "Hey I suggest you watch you mouth lady before it gets filled." He grins that manic grin

Gunther Kasimir Berg: He frowns and takes another swig from his glass.

Andrea Angotti: "You gonna fill it, blondie bear?"

Felisa Espinosa: "Aw, you like him. You wouldn't be hanging around him if you didn't like him. Fuck, have a seat, you're too goddamned tall. Gives me a crick in my neck."

Gunther Kasimir Berg: Gunther looks up to the stage with a scowl. "Dude, this guys blow ass."

Aerin Thomas: He steps into the MetalTimes, looking around briefly before heading straight toward the bar. The man looks...well, to be ploite, like hell. Cold demeanor, and something like he hasn't slept in a week or so. Clothes are clean and in order...trench coat, white button-down shirt, slacks, stell-toed boots. But that's the only thing that is. His hair is loose, his eyes dull. He shrugs past a couple people on the way to the bar, ignoring everyone.

Spitfire: He grins feet moving off the table to sit firmly on the floor "Looks like somebody might have to, but let me guess eh, not your fucking type?" A raises a piereced eyebrow.

Felisa Espinosa: d10: per+alert: 2,5,4,4,3,

Gunther Kasimir Berg: d10: per+alert: 9,2,7,4,8,7,

Andrea Angotti: "You just ain't angry enough," she purrs, rolling her shoulders as she steps away from the bar.

Gunther Kasimir Berg: Spotting Aerin, Gunther downs the rest of his drink and steps up with a menacing grin "Hey traum. Yer fuckin lost. Gaybar's down tha street, fuckstick."

Spitfire: He waves his hand laughing her off

Spitfire: d10: Per & Alert: 7,6,6,7,

Felisa Espinosa: Nope, didn't see that one walk into the place. Felisa scooted over in case the amazon wanted to sit down and chew the fat. Or the table, if she had a mind to.
"Yeah, not exactly my speed. But eh, I'm mellow tonight. I can deal with it."

Andrea Angotti: Her eyes flick after Aerin, brow furrowing briefly before she shrugs it off and glances back to Spitfire. "You ain't no fun."

Spitfire: He looks over at Aerin then hears what Gunther says and looks back to Gunther. What the fuck. "Hey Gunther, whats the beef?"

Spitfire: His eyes flick back to Andrea "Nah, you just ain't my type!"

Aerin Thomas: He doesn't seem to acknowledge Gunther's insult. Either he didn't hear it or doesn't care. "Corona," he mutters to the bartender, sitting onto a stool.

Gunther Kasimir Berg: His eyes narrow to a glare on Aerin, speaking to spitfire. "Know at fucker. He's onea them bitches what wanna fuck with me. Thinks he knows what's up but he ain't know SHIT bout me. Faggot fuck."

Felisa Espinosa: She went in to whisper quietly into Spit's ear, once she took in the situation. Man, what a tangled web.

Andrea Angotti: She snorts and drops onto the stool beside Felisa. "That's good pipsqueek. I'd kick your ass."

Aerin Thomas: "Shut up, Gunther," he says as an aside over his shoulder, before he picks up his beer and takes a good, strong pull off of it.

Demitri: Demitri wanders into the place, looking like a modern day urban pirate with long and black wavey hair that hides some gold and silver ear rings. There is a tuft of black beard on his chin and his body is drapped in a black shirt with a jolly rogers on the front along with leather pants, jacket, and thick boots. He looks around as if on the prowl or looking for someone.

Andrea Angotti: d10: per alert: 7,9,5,

Andrea Angotti: Andy's eyes flick towards the door, her nostrils flaring wide as a slow smile creeps across her lips.

Gunther Kasimir Berg: He keeps his glare on Aerin. "Hey traum, how bout you tell Ita I said 'sup. Been a long time since I seen tha slut. Maybe I'll come over fer a visit sometime. Long as she ain't shove another fuckin baby in my lap it's all gravy.."

Felisa Espinosa: "Lemme check the calender on the phone. I didn't know it was Ass-Kicking Friday. I lose track of the holidays."

Spitfire: His eyes glance to Andrea "In your dreams bitch." He looks back up between Gunther and Aerin "Hey Gun, the man has a right to fucking drink, leave him be..."

Aerin Thomas: d10: WP: 9,5,7,2,7,2,

Aerin Thomas: He twitches visibly at Gunther's comment, and opens his mouth to say something...before his shoulders slump. He lowers his head to his drink and focuses his attention on downing the rest.

Andrea Angotti: She snorts playfully at Spitfire and slithers off the chair to stalk towards Demitri, hips swaying. "Hey..."

Demitri: He looks over to Andrea as she wanders over and gives her a little smile. "Hey.." he says back and looks over to Aerin.

Gunther Kasimir Berg: He sneers at Aerin, talking to spitfire "He ain't gotta right ta shit. After tha shit at motherfucker's been sayin bout my ass.. he's lucky I ain't turn em into a goddamned pincushion. Little bitch."

Felisa Espinosa: "Baby? What the fuck man? How do you get into all this shit? You're worse than I ever was."
Felisa shook her head. Fucking amazing.

Andrea Angotti: "Sup," she asks, slipping her fingers into his backpocket as she presses her nose against his throat with a little shiver.

Gunther Kasimir Berg: His gaze still fixed on traum, he speaks to felisa "How'd I get inta all is shit? I started slummin round with gypsy fucks. Shoulda known better. My Opa'd kick my ass if I's still alive. Bitches ain't nothin but trouble."

Spitfire: He rolls his eyes "Gunther, if he has been saying shit thentry and take him out, actions speak louder than words, though am thinking it might be a hard fucking fight."

Aerin Thomas: He rubs at his face, fingers digging at his forehead a little. His head shakes a bit...bad fuckin' luck. Wrong place to go, wrong time. He stands and goes to pay for his beer.

Spitfire: He snaps then standing up and grabbing Gunther arm "Ain't nothing wrong with Gypsies, and I hear you bad mouth them again, I'll put you fucking down." He growls at the end.

Andrea Angotti: Even Andy has to glance at Gunther at that one. Two of her boys were Romani.

Felisa Espinosa: "That's fucking admirable," she muttered, scratching her nose. Didn't seem to faze the guy that he'd been riding the razor's edge for what seemed to be forever. That, if nothing else, deserved respect. She watched the amazon nuzzle the neo-pirate. Aha. Figured she had a fella.

Demitri: He grins as he slips his arms around Andrea and holds her against him as he turns his attention to her. A wicked little grin sliding onto his lips. "All's good... you?"

Gunther Kasimir Berg: "Lose either way" He gruffs to spitfire. "After I beat em to a bloody pulp, those ritzy fucks slam my ass an is homeboys come after me. Ain'ta fair fuckin fight." He snorts, looking down at his grabbed arm. "They's somethin wrong with this slut. Ya ain't know er. Ain't want to. Bitch ain't nothin but trouble. Surprised you ain't heard of er."

Aerin Thomas: "Let it go, Spitfire," he says, looking over to the man accosting Gunther. "If it's on my behalf, just..." He shrugs, staring at Gunther a bit. There's an intensity there...not really anger. Just sullen resignation. A sort of acknowledgment. He nods to the skinhead. "You won. Congratulations." He turns to head to the door.

Spitfire: The next sentance is an order not a request "Sit down, now."

Andrea Angotti: "I'm fine. Trying to get a buzz on before I head to work. Picked up a late night shift in the hopes of staying the heck away from the boss." She shrugs, tongue flicking over her lips as she peels away from Demi to head back towards the bar. "And on that note I need more Cuervo."

Felisa Espinosa: d10: per+emp: 9,7,3,8,9,

Felisa Espinosa -> Aerin Thomas: He's looking a little rough...

Gunther Kasimir Berg: Gunther slumps back in his chair, eyes still hard on Aerin. No sympathy of any kind for the man. "Yer fuckin right I won. Little bitch."

Felisa Espinosa: "I can tell this weekend's gonna be a barnburner," she said, glancing at everybody. "I might have to buy a damn helmet and a kevlar vest."

Aerin Thomas -> Felisa Espinosa: Utterly crushed. There is no spirit inside the man whatsoever. He's running on pure "I have shit to do." He believes he's a horrible person, and that he's brought about his own ruin. He doesn't even feel anger toward Gunther anymore...whatever's between them is done now, in Aerin's mind, and he lost, and lost BIG.

Demitri: He can't help but chuckle about that as he follows her, glancing around the bar some and mostly towards Aerin.

Spitfire: He sits and looks to Gunther "Now talk so you make fucking sense."

Aerin Thomas: A bitter, lifeless chuckle, on his way out the door. "Have a good evening, Spitfire...Felisa. Gunther."

Gunther Kasimir Berg: He snorts. "Not here. Can't talk bout at shit here."

Andrea Angotti: "Prick, if ya wanna talk to the man talk to the man," she says, reaching back to palm Demi rather inappropriately before ordering another shot.

Gunther Kasimir Berg: "Go hump a tree, ya faggot fuck." He calls out to aerin.

Demitri: "So you having problems with the boss man?" he asks joining Andrea at the bar. "He not like that video?" he asks grinning to her.

Aerin Thomas: The door shuts behind him, Gunther's words following him out.

Andrea Angotti: She coughs slightly. "I almost got thrown over the desk the second I walked in the door." She smirks and slams the shot. "He was polite enough to wait until we'd finished fighting before using me to clear his desk off."

Aerin Thomas: ((Bye, guys.))

Aerin Thomas: ((Thanks for the scene. *Hugs*))

Felisa Espinosa: She wagged her finger at Aerin, looking at the two men in the booth. "Something's wrong, something is very fucking wrong with that guy. Look at the way he moves, like he lost his family in a flood after getting fired from the job he loved, fucker's soul got caved in. That boy's in hell..."
She was very tempted to get up and ask a couple of questions.

Gunther Kasimir Berg: (*hugsa rav* i'm sorry!! *pouts* for the record.. I happen to love aerin.)

Demitri: He doesn't seem to mind the grab, letting out a little groan for her effort. "Impressive that he he had that much self control." he says to her, then orders a whiskey while running a hand over her back.

Gunther Kasimir Berg: "Gut." Gunther spits out when Felisa rambles. "He fuckin deserves what e gets. Fotze."

Andrea Angotti: She snorts. "Yeah. I know. So...You know the morose dude that just left," she asks, downing her shot before ordering another.

Demitri: "Only by reputation." he says casually with a slight shrug of his strong shoulders.

Spitfire: He looks to the door and then Gunther, words Felisa spoke the other night coming together "He one of them that thought you did over the faggot?"

Andrea Angotti: "Lemme guess. Something we gotta talk about later," she asks, leaning into Demi with a soft sigh, wriggling a bit to get comfy.

Felisa Espinosa: "Maybe so. Dunno the details on the baby shit, whatever the fuck that's about. Shit's fucking ridiculous, it's like an episode of the fucking Flintstones."

Gunther Kasimir Berg: He snorts, still eyeing the door with a mean glare. "He's one of is homeboys. Tha one those ritzy fucks had beat on me after I sliced em up at time he wouldn't ease up off my junk. He's a pussy. Wasn't even fightin back an it took that fucker forever ta knock my ass out. Hits like a little bitch."

Demitri: He smirks at her indirect question and nods, staying close and letting her snuggle up against himself. "You got it." and slips an arm around her so that he can hold and grope her at will. His other hand occupied with his drink.

Andrea Angotti: She nods slightly and licks her lips thoughtfully. "Y'know we get that website up...I bet I could get some footage of me an Craven..."

Felisa Espinosa: "Who's the head guy then? I mean, if he's running with some hippie crew and he's not the one wearing the pink badge, then who the hell is?" she asked.

Demitri: "Now that would be sweet." he asks with a delightfully wicked sounding laugh escaping his lips.

Gunther Kasimir Berg: He sneers "I ain't wanna meet tha head faggot. Nein Danke."

Spitfire: He nods faintly eyes looking to the door Aerin left then back to Gunther "And did you do it?"

Andrea Angotti: "You just wanna blackmail him," she says, snorting. "So do I, but that's neither here nor there."

Gunther Kasimir Berg: He looks to spitfire. "Done a lotta shit. But I ain't kill is homeboy."

Felisa Espinosa: d10: per+sub: 2,5,9,2,2,

Demitri: He laughs again and shrugs. "Well, I was curious what you might want to do with the footage exactly."

Andrea Angotti: "If you haven't noticed...I do have my private stash," she says coyly, eyes flicking to Gunther and company as she reaches one hand up and around Demi's neck, fingers curling in his hair.

Spitfire: He nods, believing the man on face value, he has no reason to lie, not in Spitfires opinon. "So in which case you ain't have nothing to worry about, now tell me, these homeboys been beating on your ass?"

Felisa Espinosa: "I believe you man," she said, nodding, "but who'd wanna frame you for it? If it's even a frame to begin with, which I don't think it is. Looks like bad juju on your part man, you're a victim of circumstance from the looks of things."

Gunther Kasimir Berg: "Not yet. Faggot named Joshua said he's gonna rip my ass apart.. but when I ran into em I was in battery. Said he ain't gonna do shit there. Ain't seen em since."

Demitri: "Oh yes, a lovely little stash it is. Something like that might make a nice addition too." He seems to enjoy the closeness with her, looking towards Gunther too before returning to her. His spare and running over her bare midriff and up below her breasts casually.

Andrea Angotti: "You really wanna watch my ex screw me," she asks, laughing slightly. "Oh wait. Of course you do. You liked the other vid rather a lot if I recall."

Felisa Espinosa: d10: per+alert: 2,5,9,2,6,

Spitfire: "Battery..." He ponder this "Oh yeah, thats that no fire zone shit ain't it." He smirks looking to felisa "In case you didn't know, we ain't meant to do shit in Battery." He laughs

Andrea Angotti: d10: per alert: 3,9,5,

Felisa Espinosa: "Well, first off, we got peepers peepin', so keep it on the down, yeah? So there's that," she says, her tone getting low. "Second, these fuckers don't seem all that reasonable if you ask me."

Andrea Angotti: Her brow furrows slightly, eyes sliding towards Spit.

Gunther Kasimir Berg: He sneers. "Ja. At's right. Not that I mind defendin myself from em faggot fucks.. but I ain't wanna be gettin in no trouble fer stabbin tha wrong fuckstick over some stupid shit."

Demitri: "Who me?" he asks teasingly.

Andrea Angotti: Her eyes roll and she turns, sliding up onto the bar. "Yeah you. Did we even sleep that night?"

Gunther Kasimir Berg: He follows Felisa's eyes, tossing a glare demitri and andrea's way. "Mind yer fuckin business." He barks, subtle as ever.

Andrea Angotti: "And what if the fag is our fucking business," she retorts, brow arching.

Demitri: "I think I slept for maybe... a few minutes?" he asks half to himself.as he watches her.

Spitfire: He looks up there way as well after Felisa's warning, a grin at Gunther outbrust, you got to love the direct approach

Gunther Kasimir Berg: "Then take it up with yer little fag, then. You ain't know shit bout Gunther, so fuckoff slut."

Andrea Angotti: "For a man I found unconscious in a fucking alley and fed, you sure are asking for me to bust your balls..."

Andrea Angotti: Andy curls one leg around Demi's thigh, hands moving to rest against his chest.

Felisa Espinosa: "Not supposed to do shit in Battery. Got it. So uh, why did we get into a mess in Battery then?" she asked, snickering a little.

Gunther Kasimir Berg: "Bitch you ease up off my balls.. Gunther ain't ask you fer shit. I'm just fuckin dandy. Ain't need nobody."

Andrea Angotti: She shrugs and leans into Demitri, nibbling his ear and whispering.