A Breath of Recycled Air

[Jeremy Varin]

One hand holding his drink, the other gestured to her head.

"You've got- " He ducked a wide swing from one of his assailants and whirled about on his heel to give himself a bit more space. In the commotion, it had become a rather difficult thing to get, but Jeremy was determined. He dodged another incoming fist, letting his attacker's momentum do the rest of the work, and the man suddenly found his ribs against the edge of the bar, and his face inches away from an angry Askajian bartender.

"... a bit of wood- "

Another bit of quick footwork took him from the path of a chairleg club that would've rung his bell for sure.

"... in your head."

[Gradoona Pod-Floewander]

"Huh?? Oh."

Absently, Gradoona reached pack, pulling out a bloodied fragment. It was only a few inches worth, but that did explain the nagging little pain. Gradoona examined the oversized sliver, then tossed it away with a shrug as she massaged the back of her head.

"Good lookin' ouut there, buddy!"

Just then a bottle whizzed by and ricocheted off the Herglic's beak.

"Ow!! Maan!!" She massaged what passed for her upper lip with two fingers before focusing on the bottle thrower. Before he could wind up and throw a second one, Gradoona jerked the drunk off his feet by his arm.

"Ookay, guess we oughtta take ouut the traash yaknoo."

Winding up with a foot pivot, Gradoona threw her assailant out the front door, watching him ragdoll across the ground.

[Jeremy Varin]

Another duck, another swift shift to the side, and Jeremy found himself with just enough time to take another level from his glass. A second (or third?) table-full of burlies had entered the mix, and two were now advancing on him with healthy notions of putting their fists into his face.

"Easy now, gents," he tried a disarming smile that of course did not deter them.

"Why don't we just talk about this?"

Talking out their differences was also very much out of the question, and the pair rushed forward, each with an arm pulled back, ready to deliver their angry punches.

[Gradoona Pod-Floewander]

Sighing from her blowhole, Gradoona palmed a barstool and hurled it one-handed, catching both assailants across the chest and putting each man on his back before they could land a haymaker on Jeremy.

She'd stepped into the mix to cover her human drinking buddy, but that left a lot of blind spot. One of the brawlers took a running leap and splashed on Gradoona's back, holding onto her shoulders for dear life as he instantly regretted his choice. Without much leverage, he took a couple of weak jabs at the blood-slick patch of her head that had caught the wood sliver. The Herglic hauuumed with annoyance and just backed up to the bar to lean against it.

"Aaaaaagh!"

"Haad enough there? Ya gonna taap ouut oor what, eh?"

Reaching back, Gradoona found her pitcher and palmed it. She took a leisurely sip.

"Hey, I can do this aaall daay, yaknoo!"

[Jeremy Varin]

It was like a bizarre dance, and Jeremy pivoted his way out of the line of fire in a string of continuous movements. He managed another level from his drink, and it wasn't long before he was beside Gradoona, who had an attacker pinned rather expertly between herself and the bar. The man cursed and grunted in anger, droplets of spit making their way from between his lips as he groaned in pain.

"Atmosphere's a little crushing in here, don't you think?" He couldn't help but quip.

[Gradoona Pod-Floewander]

Gradoona couldn't help but groan through her blowhole.

"Daad jookes, eh? Aren'tcha a little young foor that?"

The Herglic righted herself, allowing her deflated attacker to fall to the floor as he gasped for breath. She paused to finish her beer, then looked above the rim of the pitcher to see the last drunkard standing. He'd upped the ante somewhat by drawing a vibroknife from somewhere. Blinking, Gradoona paused. She eased her pitcher down to a nearby table.

"Alright there fella, noo need to up the ante. We're haaving a friendly neighboorhood baar fight. Noo need to bring the ool' penguin sticker."

The knife-wielder took a menacing step towards the Herglic, who whistled with her hands extended.

"Thaat's trouble ya doon't want, yaknoo."