[Dillian Smith]

Glasses clanked, Dillian once again cleaning glasses as he looked at the clock waiting to go home for the night his worn jacket waiting to be put on and the pack of smokes ready to be enjoyed. On his night stand was his own personal whiskey ready to be poured. As Emm went around making sure people were happy, he watched. Serving people here and there with a forced smile on his face.

The towel was set down on the counter as he leaned on the inner part watching the door, watching the people. Watching any indication he'd have to play bouncer as well as barkeep. To his surprise everyone in the place seemed....ok. For now.

[Ermentrude Osbjornsdotter]

Erme approached the bar with a new drink order for one of the booths in the back, smiling at Dillian as she rattled off the cocktails. "It is quiet tonight." She observed while she waited, taking in the half-empty room. "Quiet is bad." She narrowed her eyes at a the only large group at the bar. They certainly weren't regulars. And several of them had accents that indicated they weren't locals, either. They'd come in over an hour ago and ordered a couple of rounds, having arrived already pretty sloshed as it was. She'd worked in this business long enough to know that they posed a potential for trouble. Drunk and non-local - a recipe for belligerence. And Erme knew that when things were quiet, like it was tonight, it was typically just the calm before the storm. This was conflicting for Erme. On the one hand, this was her place of employment. Meaning that they would have to quell any restlessness if it occurred. But on the other, there was nothing Erme enjoyed more than a good old fashioned ruckus. But the mess they called was rarely worth the clean up she'd be forced to help with after the entertaining bit was over.

She was probably just being paranoid, though. Everything seemed well so far. And closing was right around the corner.

[Dillian Smith]

He figured his break was over as she walked back over empty handed, other than a couple empty glasses which he took and set on the table before he started to make the drinks she was rattling off. It was far from a problem, the more he made the more money was made. The more money made and the more sloshed people got the bigger chance to a tip - at least with regulars. Tonight that area was a toss up as most of the people weren't normal customers. The most he figured was they would make the night at least seem like less time. "Nothing we can help." He said as he finished the first drink, one of the customers looking over to see what the barkeeps were doing. "What I'm not a fan of is the fact I know none of these people." He said quietly enough to keep it between them. She wasn't the only one thinking about the fact that new comers usually came in cocky and after more than a few drinks he was usually knocking out a jaw or two to keep the peace.


She may have been paranoid...but he was just waiting. Waiting for a show to start as he made one poisonous drink after another.

[Hugh Cairns]

Hugh was, to put it lightly, a little toasted. The boys at the Bucket Bros had suggested a night out to celebrate a birthday - and who was Hugh to say no to such a fantastic cause. They'd taken turns buying rounds and between the 8 of them, things had gotten slightly out of hand somewhere around three rounds ago. Which was when they had stumbled into this fine establishment. Well, fine might have been overstating a wee bit. But Hugh wasn't picky about where he beered-up. As far as he was concerned, this bar was just as good as any. He was feeling too good to rightly care where they had stumbled after the last bar had kicked them out on their rear-ends.

"You don't right know what'chur talkin' bout." One of the maintenance guys complained to him, giving a light shove to his left shoulder. Hugh didn't much like to be touched. He especially didn't much like being touched in an argument by drunk knumbskulls who needed a cuff to the head.

"Shuddup, Murray." He growled, "And keepyer hands off me." He shoved the older man back. He'd taken enough shit in his life from strangers - he wasn't about to take any from his coworkers either. He'd only known Murray six months and he'd already found the man to be a buffoon. This was only strengthening that conclusion.

"You canny tell me whadda do." Murray swayed lightly on his feet, frown taking over his face. Before Hugh could react, he was on his arse on the floor - having been tipped off his stool by a drunken Murray.

Oh boy, the Scot had done it now. Hugh pushed himself to his feet and stared up at the taller man. "You sholn't've done that." He poked Murray's chest. The alcohol had dulled their good sense. It was a recipe for disaster. At least Hugh was familiar with disasters.

[Ermentrude Osbjornsdotter]

"It is not a good thing, no." She scrunched up her face and took the tray of completed drinks. "Hopefully it is all in my head, oui?" As Erme turned on her heel to delivery the order to the customers at the far table, though, a man at the end of the bar was pushed off his seat.

Twin reactions of irritation and amusement filtered through Ermentrude as she turned back around and placed the teetering tray back on the solid wood of the bar. "Or maybe I am right. Again." She had a knack for these things, unfortunately. It came packaged with her eternal life. "Shall you deal with them, or would you prefer it it to be moi?" She eyed the burly men in the corner of the dark room. Eight of them, in fact. They were severely outnumbered - even with their extrahuman abilities. "Or is this a job for two, mon petit lupe?"

[Dillian Smith]

"No, it's not." He said not taking his eyes off of them as they swayed a bit in their chairs, talking rather loudly. The next set of drinks were probably gonna put them to sleep, that's how sloshed Dillian figured they were.
"If history has a way of showing us the future...I give it," And down went the chair proving his point. He shut his eyes for a second, his ears listening to the fight starting.

He set the towel on the counter, and got out from behind the only regular watching him move as if he knew what was coming. Probably did, knowing how many times he'd kicked someone out. Violently.
"I'd say it's a job for two, keep their buddies off of me and I'll break them up." He said walking past her, and shoving them apart his history of working out hours a night paying off once again.
"I think you've outgrown even our welcome gentlemen." He said refusing to use the word mate, a word he thought needed taken out of the English language in ways of the 'friend' term.
"You and your friends need to find another place to finish this." He added.

He was fair...he'd only toss a punch if they tried to go at him. Until then he'd settle for trying to keep them apart.

[Hugh Cairns]

Hugh was about to swing at Murray, the bastard, when a rough looking man stepped right up to them. Hugh was scrappy, after years of physical bullying he could handle himself in a fight. But he was short. And lean. There were only so many ways a man could compensate for his size. However, Hugh had enough alcohol in him to fell a small elephant. Even if Hugh knew that he should stand down, the liquor flowing through his veins was telling him that he could totally take this bartender guy. After all, it was just him and a petite blonde server. It wasn't like he had backup.

So where he should have politely excused himself and his friends from the bar and made for the circus, instead the words "Yeh can'ny tellme what tah do" found their way out instead. He turned to the bartender then, Murray all but forgotten behind him in favor of this new foe.

[Ermentrude Osbjornsdotter]

Erme nodded at her coworker, and let him go about his business. She instead turned her attention to the belligerents' gaggle of friends. "Bonsoir, boys. You have been enjoying the evening, yes?" She did her best to pull their attention off the three men behind them, where the wolf was currently trying to defuse the situation and get the offenders out of the bar without incident. It didn't seem to be working all that well. But Erme had faith. She'd seen the young pup fend off bigger and more threatening interlopers in the past. And if he needed her she was here.

[Dillian Smith]

That was the problem with drunks who didn't know how this establishment worked, You drink...be merry and go on your way you were fine. One could even talk about illegal activity and Dillian would mind his own business if he didn't need to be included. You get roudy and make a scene, you'd end up knocked out with a black eye within a minute. However, the guy hadn't struck him yet.
"Mhmm..." He mused, keeping him away from his buddies while she kept his buddies away from him. "Normally I don't talk, so take my advice and find somewhere else to take your little fist fight."

[Hugh Cairns]

Hugh blinked at the bartender, swaying slightly on his feet. He was at that sweet spot of inebriation where defiance and belligerence were not only things that made sense, but seemed like the most (if not only) appropriate course of action.

Sneering, he moved to poke at the bartender's chest. He missed horribly, pitching forward closer to the larger man. "Maybe I don'wanna do that?" He looked around the bar, then to his co-workers. Most of them were watching things unfold. No one seemed to be making a move to diffuse the situation. "Maybe I like it righ' 'ere." He gestured to the room, smiling coyly - or at least he tried to make it coy - at the pretty petite blonde server currently trying to corral the rest of Hugh's mates.

[Dillian Smith]

And that...counted. He hadn't touched him but the intent to was enough to make Dillian strike, and after one low chuckle he did. The air whizzing past his fist as he landed one, the guy probably too drunk to even see it coming. The sneer simply helped in his force and his words were doing no help in the lads situation. All his co-workers heard was chairs knocking down as the lad hit the floor, Dillian taking no more hits. His point hopefully made.
"Glad you do. Hope you like eating whatever dirt the others have left on the floor for you to enjoy. If you don't want the second course I'd suggest re-evaluate my warning."

He cracked his knuckles, some of the guys buddies wanting in on it and...well others realizing that Dillian wasn't in the mood to play games. Dillian just hoped she'd hold them back before this turned into an all out brawl. Speaking of which....
"Think these men need a little help to the door, my friend?"

[Ermentrude Osbjornsdotter]

Ermentrude scrunched up her nose at the noisy drunk. Rolling her eyes, she glanced at her co-worker. The drunk was doing all he could to piss the wolf off. If he didn't watch his mouth, the boy was going get the worst of it.

"You should show him the door, mon petit." She muttered before turning her attention back to the moron's friends. "Soon."

[Dillian Smith]

He took a look at the men she was dealing with, an eyebrow raised before turning back to the man who had just eaten dirt on the floor that he was sure hadn't been cleaned in weeks. Taking him by the shoulder he didn't say a word, he didn't need to. When he kicked someone out, it was usually violent and silent.

The cold air, hit them both as he dropped him outside.. Looking back at her, motioning to the door he spoke.
"Need help with crowd control?" He asked, vampire or not his buddies were now fired up from seeing their friend hit the door. His buddies were also more than 3, and all ready to throw fists.

[Hugh Cairns]

Hugh took the blow with a grunt of pain, doubling over before losing his footing altogether and tumbling to the grimy floor beneath him. He chuckled as he tried to push himself up - mostly unsuccessfully. He'd taken a lot of punches in his day, and this bartender had a mean fist.

Before he could get up off the floor completely, he was hauled up and out of the bar by his violent new friend. "Oy!" he protested, trying weakly to pry the larger man's hands off him before he was unceremoniously dropped outside the bar. Roughly. The cold asphalt met Hugh's back as he landed, then rolled over with a groan.

"No need ta be so rough, mate." He wheezed, deciding lying there and waiting for his buddies to find their way outside sounded like a better idea than trying to stand. But the bartender had already retreated back into the bar.

Well, if this night hadn't turned out to be eventful after all.

[Ermentrude Osbjornsdotter]

Erme watched her co-worker toss the beligerent drunk out the front with a satisfied smirk. Turning her attention to the remaining ruffians, she let her eyes land on each of them. There were three of them, and none of them seemed too excited about their buddy being tossed. Even though a fight between him and another of the men had been what started this all in the first place.

Mortals. Sober they were already confounding enough. But liquored up? They was no logic to them.

The wolf returned from dealing with the mouthy one to survey the rest of the lot same as her. She slid him a look from the corner of her eyes as she scoffed. Help. He asked if she needed help. "You know I could deal with them if I pleased, mon minet. But it looks as if you are having fun." She shrugged, "I will take the one on the right, if you want."