Open You're Going Down [Silarial,Open]

[Sliver]

You're Going Down The 11th of Winter, 512 A.V. It could have been anything that started the brawl. A Coolwater insulting a Snowsong's ballad, a Winterflame harassing a Frostfawn for ruining the hide of their catch, An Iceglaze harping on Coolwaters for not bringing in enough food when the cities gates were closed. The truth was just about everybody was fed up with everyone else, even within their own Holds, not to mention the rising animosity of those puffed of ninnies of a Hold that wasn't your own. So take that equation, a volatile one, and add it to that of a bar. Not just any bar mind you, no any bar wouldn't do. No put it in the most popular bar, one that most anyone can agree is the hot spot center of Avanthal, with cider to warm the stomach, and ale to dull the mind from the stresses of a long day. Sliver was none too good at math. She knew about up to the number ten, and how to figure out that half a dozen eggs were six and not twelve, even though two minus ten was probably eight...but that's besides the point. The point is that even the Kelvic who knew nothing of reading nor writing, and only slightly more about numbers, knew that a mathmatical equation including booze and Vantha from different Holds together, was one that was a fight waiting to happen. This was a rather obvious fact. It was the reason that taverns of all shapes and sizes were constantly under Icewatch surveillance, but today was different. Today wasn't just a couple Vantha shoving each other around and yelling much too loud for the Watch's liking. Nope. Today was a full scale brawl. The drunk and sober alike pummeling each other, shouting obscenities, and causing one petching time in the streets of Avanthal. Sliver wasn't there at the start, but as she sprinted down the streets, legs pumping, breath heaving, she turned a corner to see a chair fly through a window, a Coolwater lunging after it to leap upon a group of at least five bodies that were heaped up in a pile of fists and fury. Icewatch came in from all sides, but it was already clear this wasn't going to be an easy job. Sliver just growled and charged into the fray.

[Silarial]

This was her tenth day as a dancer at the Red Diamond and so far, things have been going rather smoothly as she familiarized herself with the new working environment. Despite having to tolerate the drunken antics of some patrons, Silarial had come to like her work much. She got to perform in front of people just like she wanted and she was paid rather nicely for it, too. There were also some interesting people every once in a while, foreigners even, and Silarial was free to talk to them after dancing. Of course, work couldn’t always be fun and play, and Silarial was soon to realize it the hard way. As always, things began to get busy around dinner time. Silarial was already performing her second dance, very much enjoying the attention of her spectators. To her, it felt like she and the crowd was engaged in some kind of relationship. Something similar to the concept of symbiosis. It was simple, really. She gives her audience what they ask for, and they give her what she needs. If they want to be merry and forget their sorrows if for a moment, Silarial would give them just that, and they would cheer and clap and sing along at the right moments of her show. Sometimes though, the crowd asked for things she just couldn’t give. “Oi can’t you raise your skirt higher than that? You’re as seductive as any ten year old lassie can get!” Raucous laughter erupted from a table at the other side of the room. Silarial’s eyes flushed a steely silver, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. She was a professional, Silarial reminded herself. These men were clearly drunk, judging by the slur of their words and the messy state of their table. And so she kicked her skirt upward in frustration, clenching her fists around the fabric of her skirt as she swept her feet in small circles. She forced a smile through gritted teeth. She wouldn’t let them spoil her good mood. No she wouldn't. “Don’t force her to dance provocatively.” A man from across her retorted, and Silarial wanted to thank this person for standing up to the rude men. Only that he opened his mouth once more, and she didn’t particularly like the words that came next. “I mean look at her chest region! Judging from her underdeveloped breasts, she might only be around, what, twelve?” Half of the tavern was filled with loud, scornful laughter that made her even redder in the face. Her hands instantly flew to cover her chest as she stepped a few paces back. Silarial had never been so offended by a total stranger her whole life, and so many of them all at once made it all the more overwhelming. And it started to get worse from that. The sober people were actually nice enough to defend her dignity, but there were really those who chose to be rude and ridiculed her even more. These exchange soon turned to heated talk, and in a matter of few chimes it transformed into a major bar brawl. They were not even talking about her anymore. Everyone was just trying to beat the hell out of each other, hitting and tossing and breaking anyone and anything in sight. Truly, it was absolute pandemonium.

[Svasra]

Svasra Snowsong "A people without the knowledge of their past history, origin and culture is like a tree without roots." -Marcus Garvey The Red Diamond was always a busy place, no matter what time, what day, or what season. It was a common hovel for every worker and Hold to come and complain, or listen to some stories, or simply drink an ale to calm the nerves. It was the fast-paced environment such as this that Svasra loved. She'd been working at the Red Diamond for ten days now, starting the same day as the dancer who amused the patrons tonight. " 'ey! Som'more beer, little lassy!" was a common call throughout the tavern on this eve as the alcohol ran in waves faster than Svasra could run. Though she had been warned on how drunkards can act, so far the petite barmaid had been able to hold her own, and enjoyed her job quite well for the amount she was being paid. Svasra dropped off a few drinks at a group of female Frostfawns, who were telling some legends to each other, turning back to collect the next round that was ready. One or two drinks she'd gotten the hold of delivering by now, just holding onto them and making her way quickly through the maze. The bartender - Svasra just nicknamed him Barten by now, much to his amusement - said to always use the tray, though she had less confidence of her precarious balance skills to use it when her two hands would do just fine. Most of the time though tables ordered collectively, forcing her to return and spit of their orders, wait, and pile them all onto the tray. On her first day she'd shimmied through the crowds with the tray practically in her stomach how close she pressed it. It wasn't until Barten again gave a tip, recommending to hold it instead above the heads of the patrons to ensure the drinks weren't disturbed. This meant she had to watch her arm or body wasn't jostled too much as sometimes very hot liquid had a chance of dowsing someone. It was the times when she had to use the tray did Svasra move more carefully. Every time she was jostled her breath caught, though her hand moved on its own accord to compensate and victoriously stayed aloft. "Coming any faster, eh?" a man called from the table Svasra was making her way to. The woman only laughed and smiled. "Let's see you do this before you start judging me," she responded, placing the drinks in front of the men with a slight pause as she confirmed which each ordered. "Is that a challenge?!" they all called, eyes bright with mirth and alcoholic influence. Svasra paused and tapped her finger against her chin, backing up. "Why, I do believe it is," she proclaimed as she disappeared back to the bar to pick up a couple glasses of wine for a couple in the corner with a, "Someone better start practicing!" to leave them. As she'd learned quickly, Svasra realized just delivering the drinks was not enough. It would get you a polite (or gruff) nod while being ignored. Though it kept any raucous comments away from her, it made the job boring and drag on as no tomorrow. Not to mention if you seemed cold towards the patrons, they would be quite snappy back. Svasra found it more enjoyable when she seemed open to banter and bickering, going with their comments and calls. The patrons enjoyed it too, and would come back for the amusement if not for their drinks. Svasra set the two wine glasses in front of the couple with a friendly smile, though they were too deep in conversation to give her anything but a nod in acknowledgement. Here she moved her way back to the table of men previous, seeing a small lull in the calls for her service. "Are you going to try it?" she asked, holding up her tray with a grin. The men turned to look at her and one took it with a snort. "Sure, how hard could it be to walk around?" he scoffed, getting to his feet. Svasra was quick to laden the tray with a few of the empty mugs of the men, and nodded. "Alright, take them to the bar then," she said in a challenging tone. "Yes ma'am," the man laughed, walking dizzily. He wobbled a few times, moved carefully around a few pairs of feet, and held the tray close to his chest with both hands. Svasra watched silently, hovering behind him as the men at his table peered with bets being whispered from one to the other. "What's m'prize?" he asked as he walked, turning back to look at her. First mistake in a crowded setting. Svasra watched as he tripped over something, probably his own two feet, and begin to fall forwards. She was already tense and ready for him to fall, grabbing his shoulder to steady the man. He managed to upright himself and peered at the mug that had fallen over in the hassle. "Let me take it front here," Svasra offered, taking the tray. He pouted. "No prize?" "Try again tomorrow when you have had less of what's in the mugs, in order to carry them," Svasra said with a laugh, in which the man snorted in mild amusement before sauntering back to his friends. "Don't forget to check the second level," a familiar voice chided as she set the mugs on the bar. Looking up to the bartender, Svasra nodded. Currently everyone seemed content, and Svasra took a quick break, looking at the multitudes of patrons that piled in tonight. A call of "Hey you!" while making direct eye-contact causes Svasra to move once more. She glanced at the dancer, forgetting the name the bartender had told her. As she forced herself not to be drawn into her own thoughts and concentrated on the order of three "Night's Specials" and four glasses of water, a call sounded through the Tavern. "Oi can’t you raise your skirt higher than that? You’re as seductive as any ten year old lassie can get!" The barmaid looked up to the sight of the blushing dancer who determinedly ignored them. Another hoot echoed after the first though, "Don’t force her to dance provocatively. I mean look at her chest region! Judging from her underdeveloped breasts, she might only be around, what, twelve?" As Svasra looked up to the dancer, she noticed the distress as she backed up, covering her meager self up protectively. "Hey!" Svasra called in a sharp tone which a few more sober people joined up in. Though she didn't know the dancer, she knew she was employed by the Red Diamond, and that was enough. No one deserved to be ridiculed by these hotheads. She fell silent though as many more sober males took up the call, sharp retorts flung shamelessly across the Tavern. Svasra dropped back to the bar where Barten watched closely, a deep frown across his face. In a matter of moments the two watched as the calling turned worse and even more bitter, now Barten calling out in an attempt to calm everyone down. They went ignored as the first shove was dealt out which brought both Svasra and Barten more alert. In seconds the Tavern was a roiling mess that spilled onto the streets. Barten whisked glasses and wine bottles off the bar with an efficiency of someone who's seen this before, demanding Svasra retrieve some of the dishes also. Running into the mass, Svasra felt mild panic at the thought of being crushed by their anger - or even a stray blow landing on her, though she waited for openings before darting in to collect the wine glasses that littered a few tables. She managed to grab four before it was a lost cause as tables were flipped and chairs began to snap. Barten had already left the bar attempting to pull apart the others and yelling about the price that would be added to their bill. Svasra set the dirty dishes with the others and stood behind the bar, looking around for the dancer who was right in the middle when this broke out. A few deeper calls roared in her ears and Svasra could only hope that was the Icewatch arriving. All of this over a dancer? oocI hope you don't mind me just randomly jumping in, :3

[Sliver]

oocOf course it's alright! The Guard didn't know much about mobs, but if there was one thing she learned about any violent actions, it was that there were always innocent bystanders that would be caught in the crossfire. She gave a few encouraging nods to her compatriots as she waded through the throngs of people. It seemed like the sober and drunk alike needed little excuse to begin beating the shyke out of each other, and vaguely Sliver wondered what had caused the bout, what the catalyst had been. Of course it didn't matter now. Now what mattered was doing her job. Suddenly she was on the ground. It wasn't like this surprising thing. You couldn't wade through a mob of people like a deep river after all. She saw a toothy grin above her as a Coolwater, stinking of fish and tar from a boat raised a shattered glass above her. "You look like you've got some fight in you, missy." He stabbed the broken glass towards her. Thankfully as Sliver caught a whiff of his breath, it stunk of something considerably more fermented than just dead fish. His motion was strong, a muscled arm propelling the sharp shards forward with the momentum of giddy violence, but his form and technique were off by quite a bit. Sliver snatched his wrist, rolling and merely encouraging the momentum of his body. Of course the bottle didn't hit her, even in the seething mass she could dodge out of the way. It hit the cobbled stones rather uselessly and Sliver rolled over so that she was on the back of the man, one hand gripping his neck tightly and turning it so that an eye could see her. He groaned in pain, smile gone, and Sliver wrenched the broken bottle out of his grasp, leaning down so that her lips brushed against his ear. "Try that again, to me or anyone else, and I'll shove this broken bottle into your lungs." It took her more than a few ticks to rise. Bodies and limbs kicked and fell upon her. Somehow, she managed to get a hold of the Coolwater's collar and bodily drag him up with her through sheer force of will as well as some of the wiry strength the wolverine had on tap. His sneer had returned, though there was a significantly crueler gleam in his eyes when it turned onto her."You're just an Ice Bitch" She dragged him through the people, making sure her grip pained him every step of the way. Regardless of his inebriated state, he had had violent intent, and she saw no reason to treat him nicely. Getting to the outer set of people she smirked. "Never heard that one before." She saw a familiar face of an Iceglaze recruit...had a long name. The woman, who had bright green streaks in her short hair, curled her nose in disgust as Sliver shoved her charge out of the crowd. "The first of many I suspect. Had this." The guard threw the broken bottle to the ground. Her compatriot shrugged then took hold of the Coolwater, reading off the list of charges as she led him to the bear that would put him in an overnight holding sell in Svanhildur. The Kelvic rubbed the bridge of her nose and turned back to face the horde. She had to get into that tavern.

[Silarial]

Silarial knew she had to get away from where she currently was or else she might get pulled into the middle of someone else’s fistfight. She flicked her eyes frantically around the room, looking for any openings she might get through. Grabbing her skirt, she was preparing to make a run for it, openings or no, when a large man staggered in front of her. His breath reeked of alcohol that made Silarial gag. Her hands flew to cover her nose as she fought the urge to grimace. It was obvious he was heavily plastered, if the flushed face, the horrid stench of ale, and the mad swaying weren’t proof enough. “Please let me through, mister.” She was unsure whether reason will reach through his inebriated brain, but she had to try something. The bear-of-a-man, which she recognized as a Frostfawn, rather frightened her. She knew it would be useless to resort to violence in this case, which everyone in the tavern was currently doing. First off, taking into account the huge difference in size, she was greatly outmatched by this brute and second, aggression wasn’t really in her nature. She’d flat out lose. The Frostfawn teetered further and she responded by moving backward until her back was to the wall. He was still closing the space between them, much to her frustration, and when his face was only about half an arm’s length from hers, he slurred, “Wiiill you pleash marry me?” Silarial’s jaw fell at the drunken proposal, not because of surprise, but of sudden repulsion. The man was, what, at least forty years her senior. That, and because everyone knew he already has a wife. “Umm... How can I let you know that you’re the worst thing I’ve ever seen without totally offending you?” The words came rushing from her lips before she had even thought of stopping to come up with a polite refusal. Realizing her mistake, she immediately clamped her hands over her mouth, her eyes going wide with disbelief. That was stupid of her, but it was too late to take back what she said. The bearded face went redder than it already was, his voice rumbling deep in his belly as he cursed her. “Whaaat?! You petching weeench. I’m teach you shome mannersh.” He charged towards her, but she had a preemptive attack ready for incidents like these (not that these kind of things happen frequently to her, but it was better to be safe than sorry). The dancer kicked the drunken Frostfawn between the legs as hard as she could, immediately causing the man triple her size to double over. He howled in extreme pain, his deep voice not above all the noises of the riot inside the tavern. His hefty bulk was still in the way so this time Silarial kicked him in the shin and he fell to his side with a dull, heavy sound. “Got to go. Sorry!” She skipped over him and barely ducked out of the way of a stray flying wooden bowl. Having done that, she ran to the corner of the room nearest to her, the area with less men hitting the lights out of each other. She could not determine from where she was, being trapped all the way to the back wall of the tavern, if the Icewatch had already responded to the widespread brawl. She hoped they had, and that they stop this fast because so many people, will get hurt, and there’d be such a big mess to clean up later. That, and the idea of getting dragged into another’s fistfight didn’t sounded very appealing. For the mean time though, she had to keep safe and stall for time somehow until the situation’s controlled.

[Svasra]

Svasra was quite lost, there was just no other way to put it. People were blurs around her, Barten was freaking out and trying to get the men out of the bar into the streets where the Icewatch pooled, and somewhere in the midst of it all Svasra feared the dancer might be trapped. Her gaze turned yellow as she peered through the bodies trying to squint at the small stage for performers.

She moved slowly away from the bar, careful not to be drawn too far from it and glancing towards the door in hopes the Icewatch would soon flood in. Working her way around heaving masses of bodies, Svasra kept an eye out for the bright skirt of the dancer. When she did see the dancer though, she was not trapped or up against some wall in fear, or even running away. The dancer was . . . well kicking a man in a private area, to put it bluntly. There was no delicate way to really phrase what Svasra saw as the woman scurried away once the man dropped as was much expected after such a hit.

A worker of the Tavern, Svasra couldn't help but frown in disapproval. She only hoped the man wouldn't recall it in the morning and spread that the people of the Tavern were abusive. Though she could understand the instinctual part of it, Svasra felt there should have been a better way to handle that. Then again, she didn't have a three-hundred pound guy running at her - could she really judge?

Pushing it away from her mind, Svasra stuck to the edge of the room as she slowly made her way towards the dancer in the corner. She watched the room carefully to ensure she wasn't caught in any crossfire. Most people didn't pay attention, too involved in their own fury to look over at a tiny woman inching around their bodies. Svasra backpedaled once when two men crashed into the wall, pinning her awkwardly between two different fights both inches away. Not intending to be a Svasra sandwich, she pushed one harshly from behind. This caused him to unexpectedly take a few drunken steps forwards to compensate, in which Svasra slipped away with a sigh of relief.

Almost there, Svasra waved at the dancer with a smile. When she raised her hand though a plate came crashing by, and cruelly knocked her fingers together as though to deny her the opportunity. Cursing under her breath, she grumbled about the stupidity of both of the females stuck in the middle instead of taking cover in the bar. She would have simply screamed at the dancer to come over if she thought she could've been heard. With the level of noise that bombarded her now, Svasra could barely think clearly, let alone try to get the attention of a frightened Vantha.

Shaking her hand as though that would lessen the pain, she just picked her way over the shattered plate and half-ran half-crouched the rest of the way. Coming to the side of the dancer - Petch, what was her name?! - Svasra's eyes were worried. "Are you alright?"

[Sliver]

Nails dug into the door frame of the tavern as Sliver literally forced herself through the crowd. Thinking back on the event she probably should have just gone through a window...but that was the useless thing about hindsight. As it was she felt like she was under a cook's rolling pin, squeezing herself through the masses of people, not even bothering to shout and add her voice to the din. There was almost a physical popping sound when she succeeded in breaching the gap, and she saw a fist come flying at her face in greeting, her own hand, palm outstretched came to greet the hand and turn it cruelly until she heard a gasp of pain and let the offending appendage go.

Slowly she began sidling along the wall, deciding her best bet would be not to force herself through the throng. That being said, now that she was here she was not quite sure what to do with herself. The Kelvic ducked to avoid a chair that smashed through a window behind her, then saw a hand desperately reaching up towards the air as if clawing for air. Whom ever the appendage belonged to they were about three people deep, and Sliver shoved a few individuals out of the convenient opening that had formed behind her in order to reach a skinny looking Whitevine boy with a nasty bruise forming upon his left cheek. He looked both dazed and frightened, and Sliver reached for his hand. "It's all right, I'm with the Icewatch." He accepted her grasp and she led him more gently to the window, kicking out a few stray bits and letting him out safely. "Go patch yourself up and get some rest." He nodded gratefully and jogged away from the scene. One down, nearly a hundred to go.

A call from her brethren went up outside the building. Warning horns that normally were meant to alert the city of danger, but in this case were being used as the only device that others would be able to hear over all of the noise. Mahogany eyes peeled over the crowd, looking to identify those who heard the call and looked like they were trying to get out.

[Silarial]

A glass landed a few inches from the front of her feet, breaking into thousands of tiny crystal shards. It seems she was not entirely safe from flying objects from her current spot. Thinking about it, she was not entirely safe until she gets out of the darned tavern. She decided it would be better to push her way out than stay rooted to the spot. If there was no way then she’d make one. Heck, she was good making ways out of various situations, what more this simple bar brawl where everyone was too busy to pay any attention to her?

Silarial inched her way from the insufficient protection the corner provided, willing herself to be as unnoticeable as she could despite the vibrant crimson of her skirt. She had just gone a few paces when something... someone crashed into her petite frame and knocked her with such force against the wall. Thankfully, she was able to protect her head with her forearms. It would be messy if she knocked her head hard and lost consciousness. But Morwen, she could almost feel the room swaying around her. She winced in pain and sharply push the person, one of the men who was deriding her moments earlier, away from her.

“Heeey you’re that underdeveloped dan-” Nope, not gonna listen to this. Silarial immediately shoved the man with his offending mouth back, totally catching him by surprise. He stumbled backwards and landed smack-dab between two men grappling one another. Foul-mouthed men and their foul breaths, Silarial thought with a frown as she tried to shake off the dizzy sensation that crept through her, leaning her weight on the wall for the needed support. She was also starting to feel a bit claustrophobic already, causing her breath to gain pace. She fought with the uncomfortable feeling within her stomach and focused her eyes instead on various broken articles getting stamped on by countless shifting feet.

And that was when a female voice suddenly called out from beside her, almost making the distressed dancer jump in surprise. Silarial quickly raised her gaze to meet a pair of worried eyes belonging to a female Vantha about her age. She stared at the delicately beautiful face of the young woman, baffled as to why she materialized at her side without any warning.

“Ah.” Silarial managed to utter as she regained her senses. She was quite sure the woman wasn’t anywhere in sight when the brawl broke out, but she could be wrong as well. Everything happened so fast she didn’t even had enough time to think about running for cover when things were just starting to heat up. Clearing her throat, she spoke loudly so the woman could hear her amidst all the clamor, “Yes I’m alright, thank you for asking! Just a bit trapped, is all. But please don’t tell me you came over here just to make sure I was okay... Did you?”

Before the woman could speak, however, deafening wails of warning horns blared outside the Red Diamond. Silarial’s head perked up to try and catch a glimpse of the source of the noise through the mass of moving heads. It’s the IceWatch, she was certain about it. Grabbing the hand of her female companion, she had almost made a run through the crossfire. Almost. Her hastiness had placed her in enough compromising situations. It would not be wise to let the impulses get the better of her, especially where she and her fellow female could possibly get hurt. Letting go of the woman’s hand, Silarial spoke her mind as she assessed the situation. “Seems like help is here. We can try and force our way out, but since many would try and get out through that sole door over there, chances are there would be some kind of stampede. I think it would be best to hold our ground here as best as we could until most of the people closer to the door are out. What do you think though, ugh... what's your name again?”

[Svasra]

Svasra was startled herself to see the woman jump, back-stepping a couple paces in the subconscious recognition of the other needing some space. She took a minute to regain her composure, in which Svasra waited with a concerned expression and kind smile. "Yes I’m alright, thank you for asking! Just a bit trapped, is all. But please don’t tell me you came over here just to make sure I was okay... Did you?" she finally asked, in which Svasra smiled sheepishly. Before she could offer a response though the blaring noise of Icewatch's horn rent the air and the dancer grabbed her hand - whether in surprise or some other plan was unclear. Svasra reacted immediately by taking hold of the woman's wrist that held her own in case she was the type to run in the face of sudden noises, which would likely kept them buried within the crowd. The woman waited for a moment, her hand tight around the dancer's, letting go as she did.

" . . . What do you think though, ugh... what's your name again?" the dancer was saying, turning Svasra's nervous attention from the pressing crowds to her. The barmaid blinked a couple times before responding.
"Svasra," she said smoothly, tampering down her anxiety with a fleeting smile. "And what might yours be?" she continued casually as though the two were simply conversing over lunch and not in a raging mob, "The Icewatch will come soon, we should stay put since it seems to be the safest by the wall."

Svasra found herself uneasy within large crowds, especially within the Tavern of breakable objects - herself included. It wasn't often a brawl broke out, and never had Svasra been in the very heart of it. In an instinctive method to keep herself calm, the woman distanced herself from the problem and tried to convince herself it was just another day. No, there were not screaming people. That was not a plate that crashed not two inches from her body. It was a normal day at the Tavern. She was talking to the dancer because both were on their breaks. Soon, she would go back to work and clean the tables. Not of blood, but of spilled wine and gooey food. Svasra's eyes stayed alert, though her hands relaxed against her sides from tapping absently on her apron, focusing solely on the dancer in front of her.

"You dance very well," she commented offhandedly, blinking her eyes that shifted colors quickly in her mixed emotions. Oh yes, the dancer was quite good indeed. She often got calls for more, and praise, and all that fun stuff. Svasra always liked to watch her dance, it was like an art within itself - well it was a type of visual art, wasn't it? Her dancing was more like swaying to the music and hoping it was at least in time. This girl though had talent. It was as simple as that. Svasra smiled as she thought about the dancer, letting it expand in her mind to push away the panic that came with the notion of the man that brawled behind her, and the claustrophobia of knowing she couldn't reach the door. No, of course she could. The whizzing of some beer battle that stirred her hair was wind from the open window. The strong smell of fermentation was familiar, and comforting, not overpowering. Her hand clenched briefly before twitching against her side again, eyes narrowing slightly as she took a couple deep breaths. How do you keep going? You just do, because there is no other option.

[Sliver]

Her body was already sore. This whole process of moving through the amassed crowd of people was like pushing through a never ending torrent of water in a river, constantly set on throwing her backwards. Every step took what seemed like more strength than imaginable, and the wolverine was growing increasingly impatient with this whole situation.

"THE NEXT PERSON TO TOUCH ME GETS THEIR THROAT SLIT OPEN!!!"

The half dozen people surrounding her, froze and pushed themselves against whoever was next to them. Sliver glanced around. Well it was a start, but it only created a space of a couple feet on either side of her. She grabbed the shirt collar of a particularly worried looking Iceglow female, looking into eyes that were just as glazed with alcohol as any of burly males. She grimaced, not for the first time lamenting the horrendous nature of the substance, and roughly threw the girl behind her. She wasn't looking to get drunks out of the bar, only the innocent bystanders.

That being said the Kelvic Guard suddenly found herself trapped in the middle of a sea of people, not truly closer to her destination, and quite unsure of exactly what she should be doing. She took a moment to take stock, grabbing a fist that was thrown her way out of the air and glaring fiercely at its wielder.

Even if she moved through this crowd to the back of the bar where surely some people were hiding, how was she to get them out? The wolverine snarled at her own lack of foresight and began pushing to the side of the building, a task that seemed to be significantly easier. When she reached an unbroken window she smashed it with a chair, kicking out more broken glass and grabbing the nearest individual, a middle aged man with a black eye. He hurled a carrying tray at her, smacking her full in the face and stunning the Kelvic for a moment, but it meant she had no qualms with grabbing him by the back of his shirt with both hands and dragging him to the window where she unceremoniously dumped him into a snowbank outside. Perhaps that would sober him up a little. After that she turned to the nearest individual and grabbed them only slightly less roughly, guiding them to window. She bade the older Coolwater to use the man in the snow as a step to get out the window, proceeding in a rather unorthodox manner of evacuating the building.

Some individuals were less cooperative than others, but Sliver did not truly care. One way or another she was going to get these people out, for a few bruises beat trampled dead bodies.