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Clancy A. Fitch; ACHILLES (bigheel) wrote in thereincarnates,

"Already?" Clancy's eyebrows scaled his forehead. "That was fast. I like these cops."

But he wasn't going to fight them. He'd spent enough nights in jail that week Achilles had taken over. Clancy didn't much care for the idea of a close look at the inside of a California cell. He handed his pool cue to the nearest onlooker, as if he were bestowing a great gift and not tricking the poor fool into smearing all of the fingerprints.

"I've just armed you. In medieval times, that would've made you a knight."

The guy looked totally confused, like he was torn between walloping the tall brawler with his relinquished pool cue and backing the heck away from the crazy man. After a moment's thought, the biker went for the latter option.

"Out the back?" Clancy asked Quinn, but he didn't stop to think about it or to wait for an okay. He just started walking with the assumption that the crowd would part for them. They did just take out a half a dozen guys on their own.