32nd Inning

[freakinblur]

[There's something going on outside 1451 Mitchell today! Two people, specifically Scout and Ema Skye, are sitting at a card table at what looks to be a lemonade stand. Except it's not a lemonade stand. There's a hastily-made, messy sign hanging up front reading "DELICIOUS HOMEMADE LIQ DRINKS, 5 CENTS". There's several pitchers and cups out on the table filled with questionable liquids. There's a very, very strong smell of booze coming from them. And the two manning the table are giggling like maniacs because they're drunk as skunks.

So what do you say, Mayfield? Care to find out what the hell is going on? Do you approach?]

_{[[Posting order - you > Scout > Ema. I'll be scarce tonight but I'll be definitely on top of tags tomorrow!]]}

Comments

[freakinblur.livejournal.com]

[Scout may be drunk, but he's still fast, and he's grabbing you by the collar, Dist. He pulls you back from Ema roughly, throwing you to the ground. He does not look happy.]

Man, you are so freakin' lucky I'm unarmed! Get the hell outta here!

[glowing-science.livejournal.com]

[This time Ema just yelps and covers her face, more interested in disengaging and getting him to go the fuck away than with fighting him back. She's crossed the threshold from anger to fear by now, mostly brought on by the fact that he's still attacking her after they plainly told him to leave.]

Yes, you are! Stop it!

[Thankfully, Scout has fast reflexes and a short temper. Ema retreats back behind the stand itself.]

[buildstherobots.livejournal.com]

Stop insulting me!

[He gets to his feet with a scowl, but he doesn't advance on Ema again.]

[freakinblur.livejournal.com]

[Scout gets in front of Dist, to block him from going back to Ema.]

Are ya gonna get outta here or am I gonna have ta punch yer other eye out!?

[buildstherobots.livejournal.com]

Foul little...

[But he does turn to go, not particularly wanting to get hit again. He will not be forgetting this, though.]