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The street tough frantically struggled in Uskri's arms, trying to escape. "Sorry sorry sorry, Ranore, I didn't mean it! I mean, I did, but there are a bunch of guys tearing everything up, and you know, I thought you were one of them! I was heading up to my sister's, to check up on her, and my nephew."

Uskri sighed, and set the young man down. [color=Tan]"Listen, Jeremy, you might want to stay in the apartment fr' now. There's gonna be a lot of crazy stuff going on, and I want everyone to be safe."[/color] The Canadian picked up the baseball bat and handed it back to the kid, and gently shoved him towards the door. [color=Tan]"Go, kid. Be safe, and give your sister my regards."[/color] 

Shaking his head, he thought, [color=Tan][i]What's the world coming to? Riots in the streets, ugh. I guess I'm gonna have to do something.[/i][/color] A murmur of assent from the various spirits that resided within him, and he was looking up and down the streets, seeing gangs, looters, and other folk. Down one road, it lead to the harbor. Down the other, though, it led to Sherman Square, and Little Ulster wasn't the most... secure neighborhood. He decided to go to the intersection by the square, there would be a bigger concentration of rioters there. 

As he approached the entrance to the neighborhood, his very presence caused most of the in-neighborhood criminals to flee. When he had first came to Lost Haven with his family, the most famous tough guy on Easy Street, John Damian, had tried to hustle the Ranores. Uskri had broken both of his arms when he had swung at Dathan. Needless to say, the local riff-raff knew to not mess with Uskri, and if he said to not bother someone, they [i]didn't bother someone.[/i] However, Uskri was more concerned about the out-of-neighborhood criminals who might try and wreak havoc. He had made the neighborhood safe, and he wasn't about to let it get wrecked. 

Standing in the middle of the road, Uskri's eyes narrowed, as he saw a group of gangbangers swaggering down the road towards him, wielding chains, bats, and switchblades. Cracking his knuckles, he readied for the inevitable conflict.