A gaze piercing like ruby lancets drawing crimson blood. Staring into the core of the interrupting solider girl, eyes engaged with barely restrained fury seething out as she began her spiel. Was she daft? Who was she to speak to him? What right did she have to speak for the group? Mithias was the one addressed, this girl? She was nothing more than a mouthy bloodsack wrapt in meat. Had she not been so cordial and polite, she would have been the first dead among their numbers, defaulting the options to option four. Killing them all was beneath him, just like they were beneath him, and it was hardly sporting to bring a sword to a gunfight. "Was I talking to you, Human?" 

"Do know that you are in my bar, in my city, in my Kingdom The only rules that apply here are mine. Stepping into this establishment as a human has already stripped you of your privilege. Remember this next time you wish to step beyond the bounds of your Diplomatic Mission. And if you come out of this alive, I would highly recommend the fish and chips on King's street." His words came out as eloquently as they were aggressively, though perhaps subtly suggesting that the squad was not entirely in control of their mission at all. Those keen enough to draw the lines may realize the rumors were indeed true then, and this was the very man who stood behind it all. If the liberal use of the possessives would not have triggered this epiphany, certainly the last mention of fish and chips would have drove the suspicions home.

Mithias spoke, and took the stand while the others seemed to hold themselves off for now. The werewolf was well trained at least, enough to hold a proper conversation, yet beasts often realized when they were overpowered here and would submit until the danger passed. But it became rapidly clear to Bedivere, that there were at least two independent parties here, outside of the Solider group. His scarlet eyes returned to Mithias who had the bright spotlight upon him through the ever-hungry darkness which swallowed his form into merely a head and neck to the frozen audience. All the world's a stage they say, and this destroyed bar was no exception.

"You are too polite to introduce me Sir Varomere, certainly Sir Bedivere would have done. But certainly wise in your descion to keep the thin peace we have here tonight and join me for this lovely drink. And as promised I shall allow them to live tonight. All the humans associated with you, should leave this nation by the next sunset. Alive, or after the sundown... Dead and returned to their respective countries of origin in bodybags. I am even more than willing to provide transportation if required so let it be known I am quite reasonable in my fair negotiations. Now how's the bloodbrandy? It's a shame the master brewer died several years ago, not one of mine, some French vampire whose name eludes me at this moment." Hardly a fair negotiation when you are pretty much negotiating at gunpoint, or swordpoint technically, but Bedivere seemed to be rather relaxed enough to entertain his special guest in what would probably be regarded as either asinine, pompous or just sheer arrogance in his totalitarian control that he did not even consider anyone having the spine to go against him.

But someone did.

Expletives in Russian, exploding from the mouth of Roman, as he took to himself to upstage the tense melodrama and turn it into a circus. All they needed now was a bear on tiny bicycle, as Bedivere began to chuckle after hearing the Russian go off on his rant. "Option five was not listed, but I can... Improvise." Oh dear gods, Roman was now a dead man, well not a dead man, but definitely could be one soon if it had not been for Mithias accepting the terms of three and giving himself up Bedivere's obvious benefit. Yet, letting the human go without some sort of punishment for insubordination was highly unprofessional of him. For he expected his vampires to obey his will, so too should Solider respect the authority and descion of their commanding officers. Thus a favour to Mithias would be to certainly smack that Russian in the mouth. Or perhaps something more befitting given the insults slung at his honor.

It happened rather quickly, too quickly for thoughts to truly understand what happened. Yet the eye certainly saw it unfold. Bedivere rising from his seated position, his hand grasping the back of Roman's head, roman's finger beginning to curl around the trigger as those pale claws wrapt around his skull. A force smashing a face into the stone bartop, a fired gunshot fired nicking the shoulder. An interesting exchange, but certainly one where Bedivere came out on top as a broken nose was not the only thing which he left Roman with.

"лошадь петух для хуесос." Was his curt reply after Roman finished realizing what happened. Though the old blood was certainly more than a bit miffed at getting shot at at pointblank range, he was fast enough to avoid getting the bullet embedded into him, merely being grazed by the shot but certainly his pride taking more injury than he. His suit was also ruined now, at which the tear began to drink his own blood. It must have been silver rounds used in there, for all other metals would quickly be healed by the regenerative abilities the old knight had as a creature of the night. But this bullet certainly retarded this ability to the point where it visibly ruined the elder's entire illusion of being untouchable. And yet his reaction was hardly befitting of the reality of being harmed. Far from it as he poured another drink for himself and Mithias casually as if he had neutralized Roman enough to return matters to business as hand and close the circus down.

In truth, Roman was neutralized, by a single olive pick plucked from the bar. A small steel object shaped like a metal sword reminiscent of portrayals of Excalibur had impaled his tongue into the stone countertop. Nailed in and tethered by a sword in stone, certainly not going to be able to backtalk to Bedivere anytime soon until the olive pin was removed and slight disorientation from the blunt force trauma to the head cleared up. An incidental tongue piercing, from the whiplash of the sudden attack which gave Bedivere enough time to apply his proper correctional justice.

"He has balls of steel, but a bit short on brains for my liking. Commendable bravery and punishable stupidity. Perhaps his vampire half is the brains here, Care to join us M'lady?" Bedivere Spoke to Rin this time, as he did last time and returned the her offered glass to Roman's side while watching the humans begin to either leave or stay, either way Mithias was now his captive audience. And an ally  in Mithias was worth far more than this bar.