Jacen was saying things, Simon registered rather distantly as he rolled over on the floor where he’d found himself after that last chair-swing. He was flinging people about with his mind as well and that squinting, self-satisfied cast to his features he got when he was speaking or mind-flinging (or breathing Simon thought) was accentuated when you looked up at him from the floor, the kind of exaggerated low-angle shot straight-to-cortex vids loved. All bad films should just be shot from the floor. Shot from the floor by drunk people. And only shown to drunk people, Simon decided and then almost choked on a laugh that he wasn’t trying terribly hard to hold back.
Unfortunately Simon’s brief foray into having a sense of humor rather distracted the man he’d been fighting from Jacen’s declaration of terms. He clearly does not consider his punches a laughing matter Simon thought, making a mock-sympathetic face at him from where he lay on the ground. The man furrowed his brow and clenched his fists again, moving forward aggressively with a slurred “Hey! What the fuck do you think you’re laughing at queer?”
“Actually, sorry, that’s not quite correct.” Simon informed him, finally pulling himself together enough to clamber to his feet with Jacen’s offered help. He held up one finger as if warding off chatter during a medical panel and shook his head slowly. “Not, exactly, precisely correct,” he slurred, “and therein lies it, it that is…in there. The problem.” He lowered his finger again and nodded, point made. The man he’d been fighting blinked at him for a moment in obvious bewilderment, unprepared for conversation in the middle of a bar fight. However after a brief moment of mental processing (which most likely consisted of hmm. Confusing. Still annoying? Yes. Still want to punch? Yes. Simon suspected) the man shook himself and started forward again.
…which was when all concerned found themselves very abruptly on the business end of a shotgun wielded by the establishment’s proprietor. “Okay folks,” the stocky man said, tone almost bored, “you can crack each other’s skulls all you want on the sidewalk.”