He knows better. In fact, John Blake's been warned time and time again that going to Nocwich on the first weekend of the month and habitually making trouble isn't going to serve him or anyone else. It's bound to piss off the wrong people — something Blake feels he excels in — and like so many good things, he risks getting the privilege yanked for the rest of the Summoned who are perpetually meant to be on good behavior, too.
It's well past time to head back home or find a room and things have gotten tense in one of the local alleys. Blake, whose last months-and-some in the Free Cities (and adjacent nightmare pits), has been on the mend. He's been practicing restraint and working towards getting his own place and trying to heal. That's what he tells himself, anyway.
And then he finds himself fists-up with some locals for the second time. Three are bigger than him and the one left that's smaller seems twice as vicious for it.
"Guess there's no pickin' on the little guy here," he bites at the group, but its sass that's not needed and it's said through a split lip, so he's probably not propping it with much oomph.
He's just readying himself to take on a black eye, too, when he backs into something so solid and large he's certain it's a wall. Until he shifts a shoulder and looks past his ruffled curls at a rather hulking and stern looking fellow with a dour looking face.
"Oh shit," Blake says under his breath and then turns to post up next to Wrench. "Backup's arrived, boys," he tells his assailants, and for all their obvious anger, they seem much less interested in fighting when it looks like this is Blake's backup.
nocwich - second verse, same as the first
It's well past time to head back home or find a room and things have gotten tense in one of the local alleys. Blake, whose last months-and-some in the Free Cities (and adjacent nightmare pits), has been on the mend. He's been practicing restraint and working towards getting his own place and trying to heal. That's what he tells himself, anyway.
And then he finds himself fists-up with some locals for the second time. Three are bigger than him and the one left that's smaller seems twice as vicious for it.
"Guess there's no pickin' on the little guy here," he bites at the group, but its sass that's not needed and it's said through a split lip, so he's probably not propping it with much oomph.
He's just readying himself to take on a black eye, too, when he backs into something so solid and large he's certain it's a wall. Until he shifts a shoulder and looks past his ruffled curls at a rather hulking and stern looking fellow with a dour looking face.
"Oh shit," Blake says under his breath and then turns to post up next to Wrench. "Backup's arrived, boys," he tells his assailants, and for all their obvious anger, they seem much less interested in fighting when it looks like this is Blake's backup.