Lucca raised a dark eyebrow when the girl-he was ninety percent sure that ‘Sarah’ wasn’t her actual name-made like he was being an abusive prick who wanted to buy her for a night of sex. He curled his lip as she stumbled around, telling him he could keep his money and whatnot.
“Listen here, lass,” he drawled, brogue thickening with annoyance.
“The most I’ve done to you is pick ye off the floor and lead ye downstairs. Take your bluidy suitcase, woman,” he tossed it at her feet, the scratched side landing face down, a lil surprise for her for later.
“And as fer yer arm, well, now. It wouldn’t be dislocated if ye had no’ tossed yourself through the fecking window.”He rolled his eyes at the big fat crocodile tears that began to roll down her face and crossed his arms. He turned to leave, only to bump into some a blonde male, one who probably bought the conniving, ungrateful wench’s lil sob story.
“Move,” Lucca growled.
"Oi, mate. Hold up, what's going on here?" the male asked, putting himself between Lucca and Anya.
“Well, lad,” Lucca cracked his knuckles.
“Ye got the wrong picture here; I've no' hurt her, but who am I to disillusion ye?” Lucca let his features assume a relaxed position, but it was a mask-he was on high alert in all actuality.
"Listen, if you have her clothes, give them back. Did he take your mo-" the male's phone vibrated, and Lucca tore his gaze away from him as the male hurried off. He closed the few feet that seprated him from the girl, grabbed her shoulder and dislocated arm, and slammed the limb back into it’s socket with a loud popping noise. Granted, he did it rougher than was necessary, but he was fucking pissed, and if she tried to accuse him of anything, he could claim it was from putting the bone back in place.
“Doona go flying into any more windows, lass,” he advised her, getting into her face.
“Find a sling fer that arm or ye might lose the ability tae use it. Oh, and it’s a tad bit rude to insult the lad who tries tae help yer sorry lil’ ass, the way ye did me. My last name’s Valentine, by the way.” He muttered an insult in Gaelic as he turned away from her, one that roughly translated to "Fucking two-faced, ungrateful, shithead bitch."
If someone were to come up and ream him for being an ass when that simply wasn't the case, they'd get firsthand experience with his claws.
He went outside to where he'd parked his custom built hover-cycle, only to see the male from before was on his bike. Ohhhh, this fucker was gonna get his fucking face clawed off. Lucca growled as his nails lengthened into claws. And he'd stupidly left the keys in it.
"Oi," he yelled, running to his bike.
"Get the fuck off my bike before I claw you off!" He grabbed the blonde by his shirt and pulled him down to face level, eyes flashing yellow.
"If you need a fucking ride, fucking ask, boyo. But doona go stealing my ride, asshole"
@Dark Light@HeroicSociopath@SIGINT@Ashevelendar
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