Meridian was as bustling as ever, you would hardly believe it had been appropriated by a band of savage mobsters, for the purposes of ruining a life over a single drunken misunderstanding. It was, Yaksha felt, a perfect case of history remaining obdurate against the most potent attempts to change it; even now, Vegas was as seedy as ever. All that had changed was the methods of achieving the same results. He walked through the door, unbuttoning the coat he wore, and folding it slowly over his arm, before hanging it on a hook by the door.
He walked with the sense of quiet, fluid purpose that one saw oh so rarely in the world anymore, pausing every so often to compliment a man, or offer to freshen up a guest's drink for them. He was in no rush, after all; he was an immortal, and at his age he could hardly be expected to be going around gallivanting simply because one child's life was in danger! And so here he was, rubbing elbows, making friends, being a perfect host, as he ever so slowly made his way towards the "employees only" door, guarded by a single large gentlemen, wearing sunglasses indoor.
He approached, hands at his side, a glass resting negligently in his hand; there were a few melting slivers of ice in it, and a faint whiff of grain alcohol coming off of it. He took a sip as he approached, allowing a swagger to enter his step that, for all intents and purposes, gave off the perfect impression of an inebriated man. He approached, raising his hand in an overly jovial wave, and then spoke in a slurred tone."Eyyyy! I know you! Met'n...back'n...fuck where was it...high school? Chemistry?""I don't know you, guy. Think you should head for the bathroom and let that shit pass through you before you get any more in your system.""C'mon, don't be a pussy! You were a pussy back then, too. Big guy like you, and you're -still- a pussy! I'm tryin' to have a chat, and you're sittin' there...standin' there...spinnin' there...tryin' to tell me to buzz off!"
There was a pause, the man shifting his weight ever so slightly. He looked almost sheepish for a moment, one hand raising towards his mouth, before he spoke in a lower, almost husky tone."Look. I -don't know you-. Sober up. Get outta here."
Yaksha was right up in his face now, one hand raising up to claw the glasses off his face, shouting at full volume, alcohol wafting out on his breath as he jabbed a finger into his chest repeatedly."S'just like you ya fuckin' pussy! Can't do anythin' yourself! You're scared of a guy half your size, just stand there talkin' like a piece of shit! Stop makin' excuses and admit it! You're a pussy, you've always been a pussy, and you'll always be a pussy! Squat up, bitch boy!"
Finally, shock and confusion made way to anger, the enormous figure reaching out with one hand, shoving Yaksha forcefully, his lips lifting in a snarl...only to turn into a blank, shocked expression as Yaksha fell flat on his ass, looking down at a pool of rising blood from his leg; the glass, dropped from his hand, had shattered, and slid deep into his leg."...Fuck! I did -not- mean to do that! Fuckshitfuckfuck! I'll...fuck, where's a first aid kit?"
He turned away, his gaze taking in the surroundings, heedless to the man who was rising without a single hint of drunkenness to his movements now, looping one hand around and sliding it around the throat in a vicegrip that could crush wood. He drew it tight, whispering in his ear."You know how I know you're a pussy? You -chose- to stand out here and make sure the boss had privacy, so you didn't have to watch a guy get the crap kicked out of him. Now you're going to go to sleep, and you're going to dream of puppies, or something equally cute. And by the time you wake up, this'll all be over."
The man scrabbled and squirmed, pounding against Yaksha's thigh, and the glass fragment embedded there, to no avail; blood squirted and spurted out, multiple times, but the force behind his blows was quickly diminishing, and within fifteen seconds he was slumped forward, being ridden carefully to the ground by a tall, slender man who rose, adjusted his tie, and then pushed open the door, shouting out in a voice of jovial goodwill."Walton! You old son of a whore! Hear you've been having a little fun with a tourist! Showing him the old Vegas love? I appreciate it, I truly do! And now, it's time for me to show him the pain."
Yaksha's smile was sharklike. Literally. One could see the light glinting off of sharp, impossibly sharp, hideously numerous teeth."Leave us, boys. You're not paid enough for this, by far."
Coding Altered From: [The Frost]