Good little lady you're driving me crazy... Who: War and Open Where: Ragnarök When: Friday Night around 11 pm
Dancing was relatively easy, it was like fighting with a sword. Precise moves, fluent, and there had to be a certain amount of grace to it. At least that was what dancing use to be. In these modern ages it reminded War of sex with a person's clothes on. She found little gratitude in the bump and grind of todays youths.
They were all young to her, no matter the wrinkles, they were all young. War moved through the crowds of bodies brushing against her and each hand that fell upon her felt a little spite in their heart. No she was not in here to start trouble, honestly, she was just in here for a couple of shots to celebrate the closing of her newest deal with the Hell's Angels biker gang. A few of her boys that did the trades were already a little beyond intoxicated and she had just gotten started.
After a couple thousand years of drinking she built up a tolerance. At the bar she smiled dangerously at the cute little thing behind it, "Fourhorseman." The bartender bobbed her head before making the shot, Johnny Walker, Jose, Jim Bean, and Jack Daniels she had decided if any of those liquors were to represent her it was Jack Daniels (if only because it was her favorite).
It burned well as it slid down her throat and pulsed through her veins. It gave her that urge to dance, to move onto the floor like the snake from Genesis that tempted Eve. She was feeling a bit playful and once in the crowd was quickly pulled into a dance with a man. The just insighted another one to try and cut in, pull her away. Women were wonderful at starting wars or in this case, starting a fight.
A fist flew as alcohol, mixed with a pretty girl, and a huge amount of testerone rising up. War ducked down under the punches as more began to join in and the dance floor almost resembled a mosh pit as bouncers moved in to try and stop the fight. She quickly moved to the side lines, humming innocently to the song the DJ was playing, her hips still swaying slightly to the music.
No one would think of blaming the red-head for all this trouble, surely. She had been good enough to leave her knife and gun in the car before she came in.