Hikaru Sulu (parking_brake) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2012-03-04 22:13:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, hikaru sulu, james kirk, montgomery scott, varric tethras |
Dear Scone. This is a fist.
Who: Kirk, Sulu, Scotty, Varric. Introducing the Dessert Gang and the return of Jay and Bob. Also, Bianca
What: Bar brawl! And then collapsing on Scotty's floor.
When: Friday
Where: Mad Dogs and Englishmen and Mad Monty's Repairs
Rating: PG-13
Status: Part 2 of 2 (complete)
From his position of safety on the barstool, Sulu watched 'Cupcake' and his new friend, and finished off his glass of whiskey. He glanced at Scotty and then at Varric. This guy had only been his friend for a few minutes. He wasn't sure if the bonds of brotherhood meant he needed to back him up yet, or what.
Scotty's eyes looked like they were going to pop out of his skull and he threw Sulu a very wide-eyed wondering look, as though to ask if it was always like this. But, beggars couldn't be choosers, either, so after downing one last drink, Scotty stood up.
Cupcake is about to get a shoulder tap, a smile, and a Scottish fist in his face.
Cupcake spun around from the impact, smashing into another table. His friend, who we'll call Scone grabbed Scotty from behind and flung him bodily into a booth. Glasses started flying, and fists and a chair smashed into the bar next to Sulu.
Laughing, Jim kicked a man in the chest, then swung his fist. A satisfying spray of blood spittle and teeth spread from the impact.
The minute Scotty was shaking his fist out after the punch had been thrown, he gave Kirk a thumbs up like he approved most highly. Then he was flung into a booth. No time to say that he thought that WAS what was missing. Because now he's just irked that he was thrown. Scone is in for it, now.
Dear Scone. This is a fist. This is a fist meeting your face. Never throw a Scottish person around. Rinse. Repeat. (Absolutely no) Love, Scotty.
Just for that, someone is getting kicked, hard, so they go flying over a table. And never, ever try that again. However, on the upside, even bleeding and bruised, Scotty looks DELIGHTED. Downright ELATED, more like it.
Hikaru Sulu wasn't the sort of man who picked a fight. In that, him and Kirk, James T were not the best of friends. But he was definitely the type of man who defended himself, and whoever it was that tossed the chair at his direction was about to have a can of Japanese Woopass opened right up on top of them.
He rolled his sleeves up and hopped off the bar, then poked the guy on the shoulder, ducked under the punch, flipped off to the side, and kicked him into whatever booth was still standing.
Scone's nose broke, his head snapping back and he fell onto a table where two middle-aged women were watching with amusement. With practiced ease they rescued their drinks just in time and calmly moved to a booth to watch. They applauded as Sulu's man flew past them.
Kirk spun around, "Holy shit its Jackie Chan!" He made some mock martial arts moves, "Waaaaztzzzaaaa!"
The question was, were was Varric? Varric was getting the hose. in case this got more out of hand.
Scotty raised both arms in the air, like 'he shoots, he scores!' and it was a grand soccer match, and they were on the winning team! He even bounced around in a circle of sheer yay, only managing to waver once while doing so. Expert drinking, level 99!
A fist swung toward's Scotty's face. Lets call this man Pie. As is well known, Pie is best, and he's fairly large and fairly strong.
Scotty would've probably rather had cake, that was made of lies. But no, he's stuck with Pie, and that's a pretty significant number too! Fist met face and down went Scotty with a thud. He laid there, wondering if the stars he saw had smaller orbiting bodies like planets and moons, and let out a groan. Even as he raised a foot up and kicked in an upward direction, because any contact with Pie was fair game. Pie is a real right bastard.
Another man picked up a bottle of whiskey and ran towards Sulu, swinging it wildly at the man's head. He had a crazed, drunk look in his eyes. Then Kirk's foot spread out and tripped him. The man careened at Sulu, no longer intent on smashingh is head in and instead trying not to fall over.
With a sickening crunch sound that had most of the bar groaning in sympathy, Scotty's foot made contact with Pie's balls.
Scotty winced a little. "Sorry about that, laddie...ooo...nevermind, ye deserved it." Another kick to send Pie toppling over, and Scotty hauled himself up onto his feet, rubbing the back of a hand over a very split lip.
He was starting to have an odd distaste for dessert all of a sudden, too.
To hell with Pie. Sulu never liked Pie, and now his 'don't fuck with me' face was on, and he was ready to rip Pie a new one if he smashed the Tinker guy in the face again. He didn't DISapprove of scotty's handling of the situation, and anyway he had problems of his own.
Let's call this guy running at him Cream Puff. Cream Puff was about to learn a lesson about physics. Sulu grabbed the whiskey bottle out of his hand, then brought his arm down on top of his back in what we'll call a gratuitous karate chop.
An object in motion stays in motion. At least until it hits the floor. Cream Puff's nose kind of made a crunch noise. Sulu took a swig out of the bottle and grinned.
"Oh, brilliant! We get bottles now?!" Scotty exclaimed, pointing at Sulu, as though to say he's got one so I should get one too! And there he goes, grabbing one of the more empty bottles, downing it, and tossing it over at some french-canadian bum who decided to try to get in on the fight, and was coming right for him. We'll call him Eclair. A crash of glass against skull, and down goes Eclair in a shower of glass, ripped glad baggie, and salvation army bargain bin clothing.
Eclair raised his fist and gave a tiny cursing in mangled frenchish sounding stuff, before his fist fell and he laid there, very silent and still.
With a heavy thud, Cupcake hit the ground and Kirk stood over him in swaying triumph. He held up his arms and pumped his fists in the air. His arms were still in the air when the door to the bar opened and in walked Tony, Scotty's former midget assistant.
For the sake of consistency, we'll call him Shortbread. He put on iron knuckles and bumrushed Scotty from behind!
"Yo! ..DUDE! Who's...name I don't know yet! Short..guy!"
"OCH! MY SHIN!" Scotty grabbed it and somehow managed to bounce on one leg, grabbing his other with both hands, and got clocked one in the face by Shortbread. Who knew the little wee folk had such a right hook? Well, he had sworn revenge when he was flying through the air from that explosion in the steam powered steampunk car, earlier that week. Well, that had it. It might hurt, but Scotty picked up Shortbread (formerly Tony) and drop kicked him as far as he could.
Going to bring former employment issues into this, eh? It was only volunteer work anyway!
Shortbread went flying straight into Sulu, who was paying more attention to being quietly confident and badassed with his bottle than to what was flying in his direction.
He went down and the whiskey bottle sadly went down with him. Glass crunched in his hand and his head was swimming, and now he was really, really pissed. He was going to kick some shortbread ass.
As soon as he remembered which way the floor was.
Shortbread flailed, wailing with his fists on whatever person he'd landed on, then hopped up, standing on Sulu's back and making the universal motion of 'come at me, bro!'
"Thats..my ride...!" Kick picked up the nearest convenient thing - a chair leg, "Yo shortbread!" He threw it!This whole thing is #winning
"Hold on, naaaaow!" Scotty was waving one hand around, as the other went down to rub at his shin one last time, as the pain subsided. "That one's MINE! The shorty one!"
Oh that is right, Scotty is coming for you, Shortbread.
The chair leg bounced off Tony's forehead and he stumbled back. He picked up a broken bottle, "SCOOOOOOTY!" /Khan
"Who's Scoooooty?" Either way, it's getting a lot of o's from a.) the drunk or b.) the scottishness. Scotty's eyes widened at the bottle.
From underneath the shortbread Tony, Sulu grunted, "Could someone get the floor off my face please?"
Near the bar, Varric was too busy laughing his ass off to react to the damage.
Scotty, or Scooty (depending who one asked), rushed to help Sulu out. If he could remove Shortbread (formerly Tony), then Sulu wouldn't have to make out with the floor.
He finally peeled Shortbread off of Sulu, and then made his way to the pub door, kicked it open, and THREW Shortbread out. Headfirst.
"Scotty! Max..massisususmum power!" And with that, Kirk grabbed Scotty and flung him bodily at Tony. Shocked, Tony just lay there and stared as the irate, drunk Scotsman flew at him.
"SUPERMAN IS NOW SCOTTISH!" Kirk threw his arms back up in triumph.
Oh great, now he's out in the street too. Thanks...whatever his name was. Did he even GET their names? Oh well, Scotty didn't have time to think on that for much longer, because he landed flat on top of Tony, squishing the midget between him and the pavement.
And with that, Shortcake (formerly Shortbread) became Flatcake.
Meanwhile, Sulu peeled himself off the floor and swayed a bit, while trying to recover from the bruise to his ego. He was just beat up by a MIDGET.
He rubbed at his head and headed to the bar to try and recover one of the drinks. Let the two crazy guys sort it out from here.
"...fuckedy bugger shite bollocks," Scotty said, rolling over with a horrible wince of pain, because those scuffs on his arms were going to be burning for days. He was NOT drunk enough for this. "Gave it all I could, aye...more whiskey, if ye'd be so bleedin' kind?!"
"More whiskey," Sulu seconded.
"Thirdedated." Kirk collapsed on a stool.
Sure, Scotty had to crawl back inside, but that's fine. He'd done that before, so it's not like it was something foreign. Don't worry about him, he's got the door. And he's crawling over. And up onto the barstool, which he used as leverage until he could grab onto the bar, and sit up properly.
With a sigh, Varric plied them with more Whiskey. Meanwhile, he was having his sous chef gather the ids of the other men. They started the fight, the were paying for damages. Not that he was biased or anying, right? He shouted in the back, "Hey Joe, need some towels. The trash ones, for blood."
Towels flew out of the kitchen and Varric caught them. Few people knew what the Mad Dogs' chef looked like.
Scotty had tried to lean over to get a peek, because he STILL hadn't seen Joe. Nope, no luck this time either. He was pretty sure that Joe was a troll or something. "He's probably a right scary bastard," he muttered, and then hissed in a breath at the way the whiskey burned on that little lip cut he'd gotten. Ouch.
"This was a bad idea," Sulu rested his head on the bar, and pressed the glass of whiskey to his forehead. Maybe he didn't need to be associating with people like this.
Though on the other hand, he had been having a *BLAST* before the midget thing.
"Oh lord. Guys. Guys this was the best day ever. Except for Isuel. This makes up for Isuel." Kirk was rambling, and grinning like a madman.
Scotty made a noise that sounded like he was agreeing, and worked past the pain to get the whiskey down as fast as possible. Because passing out might be a blessing. It was now that he cursed his liver for being a pickle.
Agreeing with what? We're not sure.
Additionally, Sulu wasn't sure if he liked or hated this Kirk guy.
Kirk swayed in the stool, "You're s...so drunk, Sulu. Gimme your keys, I gottas drive."
"Ye shouldnae drive," Scotty was mumbling, since it felt like his lip was swelling. He patted one hand down on the bar to get their attention. "I dunnae have a lot of room, but ye can both stay with me, if ye'd like."
Anything for bar brawl buddies!
He was also taking his phone out, taking a picture of his face, and text sending it to someone, along with 'lol' as the message. Just because his night couldn't get any more messed up. Go Scotty.
Varric pinched his nose, "No one is driving, I'll call a service for you. Or that works too. Its just down the road."
"Nooooo waaaay, man. Just no..." Sulu shook his head, which was still partially resting on the bar, "Nuh uhh... iie, uh uh uh, oh myyy I really am drunk I'm not sure if I'm in Japanese or Englishes."
"That's..thats so fucking awesome." It was bro hug time, and Kirk was giving them both an epic brohug.
"Aye, one of ye can sleep on the floor, the other take the couch. Sorry, but the bed's mine," Scotty was saying, before he was pulled into a hug. "An' ye're in English still...an'...oh, that's a good lad." Kirk got a few backpats for that and a sheepish grin.
Meanwhile, several miles away, Mad Dogs' favorite waitress-on-vacation peeked up from her keyboard and stared at her phone. The facepalm could be heard next door.
Scotty decided he'd just be informative! So she wouldn't walk in tomorrow and go WTF or anything!
Sulu held up a finger, "Couch is MINE!"
Then he was squished into a hug. He kind of pat pat patted at whatever back was nearest, awkwardly.
"He called it," Scotty said, pointing at Sulu, still locked in a bro hug.
"I love the floor." Kirk let go and stumbled towards the door. He immediately started walking in the wrong direction.
"Uhh...here...I think we'd better take his arms, aye?" Scotty asked Sulu, and waved to Varric in thanks for not flipping his lid over the whole affair.
"The floor is not my friend," Sulu stated. Then he broke off the bro hug and nodded at Scotty. "Good idea."
Time to save Kirk! It almost felt like a duty and an obligation, but Scotty would've done that for any fellow comrade in arms and pub brawls. He rushed over and hooked one of Kirk's arms around his shoulders, giving him a friendly sucker punch-pat to his side.
"Oof. Hey did you know those guys look like Jay and Silent Bob? We should get some pot!"
Deciding she just didn't want to know, Cass simply shut her phone off and went back to her programming. She'd see the bastard tomorrow anyway.
Sulu took up the other arm, and just shook his head at the mention of pot. He'd never heard that mixing pot and liquer was a good idea, and had already had more of THAT than he'd had recently. The hangover was going to be *epic*.
"Nooo, I think that's a rather stupendously bad ideeeear," Scotty was saying like he was vocalizing what Sulu was thinking, and they are outside and heading down the street, past the drug dealers.
"White building, right ahead," Scotty was saying to Sulu. "We're gonnae have tae drag him up the stairs."
"But guys..its pot! They're having a sale, they even had a SIGN!"
Scotty glared at the sign in question as they neared it. "Big weed sale? GET AFF! WUT THE SHITE'S THAT ABOUT! Put that sign away!"
The two dealer each flipped him off.
"Kirk, let's just get you somewhere with a nice floor for you to crash on. Then we can hit up the sale tomorrow," which Sulu was certain he'd forget about by then.
"Or..." Sulu blinked a bit as Scotty started yelling at them, "Tinker-man could run them off, maybe, that would work nicely."
"Has anyone ever told you you had really nice hands, Sulu?"
True, because after Scotty made sure Sulu had a good hold on Kirk, he had let go and taken the sign, THROWN it out into the street after busting it in half with his knee, and then stood there like he was challenging them both to do something about it. He did not look like one to be messed with, right then, either.
Bring it, Jay and Silent Bob dopplegangers!
Jay drew a gun and pointed it at him.
A loud bang erupted from nearby and the gun was blown out of Jay's hand. Varric stood, holding his flintlock rifle Bianca, which was still smoking. The Bob doppleganger took one look and said, "Seriously?"
That's not even his name. Besides that, Scotty was rolling his eyes and was ready to shoot off his mouth, but that shut him up, good and proper.
"... my hero," was all Sulu could muster.
"You guys better run," Jim said. "Before..he finishes reloading." He broke down in peels of laughter as Varric was doing just that.
"Right. Running." Right after he punched Jay, a good one, because that's what you get for drawing a gun, you cheating bastard! Then he took up his spot under one of Jim's arms and they began to make their way to the garage. Though he was looking back to make sure Varric didn't need help. The punch would slow Jay down though, and Silent Bob pretty much stood there like a useless lump of fuck, anyway.
Varric was lifting Bianca again and taking aim. Without further ado, the duo fled, leaving their sign and their pot behind. Like vultures, teenagers munching cheetohs and doritos descended upon the stash and in moments it was all gone, leaving nothing behind.
Honestly, Sulu was just glad he was man enough not to piss his pants at the gun thing. That rifle was *AWESOME* though.
Scotty whispered "bloody hell" at that but figured it was better to get them all inside so they could pass out. He waved one hand quickly to Varric in thanks, and inside the garage they are a-goin-tae-goo.
"I want one," Kirk commented, before his face planted into the floor of Scotty's loft after being carried up it, his feet still on the stairs.
Sulu grabbed his arms and pulled him in a bit, to avoid the doorway.
It was probably for the best. Faiza was on duty at the hospital tonight and would have verbally ripped them all new ones. No one wants that.
Scotty helpfully applied his boot to Kirk's legs to kick them inside a little bit. Or nudge. Whatever.
Kirk sprawled on his back, an angelic smile on his passed out face.
"...well isnae that nice, out like a wee bairn," Scotty said, and went off to get them each a blanket. "Ye can use the cushions from the couch as pillows, I'd s'pose. Well." Awkward pause and then a huge brilliant grin. G'night!"
Sulu gave Scotty an apologetic smile, "Thanksh. G'night."
Then he huggled his blankie and crashed on the couch.
Meanwhile, Varric was putting a guard on that nice Honda hybrid, so it'll still have tires in the morning.
As soon as Scotty landed face down on the bed, he too was out like a light.
And in the garage, that night, three new friends dreamed of adventure, and fights, complete with fight themes.