Nickolas SlaterNick simply looked at Johnny. No frown or smile, just simply looked at him with the kind of blank, stupid expression that one would mistake for someone calculating the sum of an infinite geometric sequence in his own mind. A genius at work. In reality Nick just didn't know how to respond because some idiot across the bar had yelled something as soon as Johnny spoke. "What?" he questioned, his eyebrows furrowing. "I didn't hear y-" the girl had beaten him to the punch by looking at Johnny in a much more body lingual way that pretty much said '
u wot m8' without actually saying it. She then turned back to himself and said something about alcohol. "I mean," he began, taking his drink that the waiter had placed down for him and taking a swig of it. "Pep le pew?" he said, raising a hand in Taylor's direction and splitting his fingers in the Star Trek 'live long and prosper' way. He continued responding to what he had said once he placed his hand back down. "It's an acquired taste. I ain't an alcoholic or nothin', but I can appreciate a good drink here and there." he said, taking another swig and finishing his drink. He levitated a few coins out of his pocket and onto the bar. He liked carrying coins, especially quarters because he could do some pretty cool magic tricks and get some street cash if he wanted. "I can agree with ya though," he said. "The music here is shit." he shook his head and took a look around he noticed Whisper leaving her seat, her face solemn.
When she stood by the window and did not move, Nick frowned. He frowned even more as he heard, just over the talking and music, police sirens. They were faint and just barely audible. He knew the sound anywhere being with the Vanguard for a while. Especially when the idiots of the bunch drove straight to his garage after a police chase to fix up their car with the police literally just behind them. Yes, that had happened. Oh, that reminded him of something! He turned over to Taylor again, trying to raise up some conversation. "You hear those cop sirens? Hope everyone's okay, Whisper," he said, using his pointer finger to motion to where the dust ninja was by the window. "...seems pretty upset 'bout somethin'." he said. "Reminds me of the time my buddy Keith tried camping out on top of a building once. He was shooting crows, but the police were too busy teargassin' him to ask what he was doin' up there. He screamed for an entire year every single time he opened his eyes! Oh, man! At first, it was funny; then it just got sad, but then it got funny again!" he said, his face breaking out into a smile. He turned and stared at the table for a moment.
He turned around as Titus entered the building, through the elevator. He had never seen that Vanguard before. In fact... He narrowed his eyes at the skull's signature on the huge man's coat. He shrugged and decided to let Mamba or something handle this one, or hell, not do anything. It wasn't like the guy was hurting anything, and as long as nothing went wrong he didn't give two shits who entered the bar.
Matthew EvansMatt gave a brilliant smile to his sister, whom he brought into a quick hug. "You're drunk off your ass, sis." he said, placing an arm around her shoulder. "But thank you." He said. Tonight had been great so far, and of course life threw a screwball at him. Through most of the silence that came from Skeleton ordering everyone to quiet down, the opening and closing of the door was very obvious. In entered a younger lady, who was adjourned with a cane. He had seen them before, it was white and red, the colors that signified a blind person. He frowned at her words. Not because of her being incorrect in number, no, he had only just become a member of the Big's. It was the way she said it. "Big five, now." he corrected. Retracting his arm from Kylie's shoulder. "You come into the wrong? This bar doesn't look like a place you'd come too often." he said, crossing his arms. He looked over the Skeleton, he knew how to handle these things a bit better than he did. He hoped that the big man himself would step in at this point, or maybe Damian would take the show by storm like he always did. He, for once, hoped Damian would do that.
Byte
Shut the fuck up.
Why dont u huh?
What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little bitch? I’ll have you know I graduated top of my class in the Navy Seals, and I’ve been involved in numerous secret raids on Al-Quaeda, and I have over 300 confirmed kills. I am trained in gorilla warfare and I’m the top sniper in the entire US armed forces. You are nothing to me but just another target. I will wipe you the fuck out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with saying that shit to me over the Internet? Think again, fucker. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of spies across the USA and your IP is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. You’re fucking dead, kid. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can kill you in over seven hundred ways, and that’s just with my bare hands. Not only am I extensively trained in unarmed combat, but I have access to the entire arsenal of the United States Marine Corps and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the continent, you little shit. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little “clever” comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue. But you couldn’t, you didn’t, and now you’re paying the price, you goddamn idiot. I will shit fury all over you and you will drown in it. You’re fucking dead, kiddo.
Byte growled, and slammed her laptop closed, and then proceeded to forcefully lift it and slam it down on the counter of her huge desk. She pushed off from her roller chair and over to her desk top, opening up Google Chrome and reopening the page she was just on in her laptop, typing away furiously, and within about the span of a minute about six different tabs opened up, as she navigated them with expert precision. She snarled, in success as she tracked the IP, and then simply opened up "Find my computer" and inputted the IP. Bingo. "Gotcha you fucking shit head." she said, grinning wickedly. She went over the the location in more detail.
Cairo, Nigeria.
"FUCK!" she yelled. "Fuck that shit!" she said, shutting down the computer and storming up and out of her seat. She needed a cold shower, bad. Sure she had just taken one a little while ago after the last internet tantrum, this one located specifically on a youtube comment thread about some idiot going on about HowToBasic not being an accurate source of information of how to do things. What the actual fuck? It was a comedic channel made to show you how not to do things. The person either missed the point entirely or was just stupid. And before that Tumblrinas were going insane over the fact that she didn't care about whatever patriarchy they thought existed. She then headed the 4chan #feminism raid in a fit of rage.
"Ray!" she called. "Where's the pin needle? Rush, I need you!" she hollered out to her buttmonkeys/room mates.
There was only one way to calm her down and therapeutic dick stabbing was it.