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#rivalsofnewyork: blackourevent
paytonfischer · 4 years
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Open Starter: Men’s Restroom
Stuck in a fucking bathroom? You’ve got to be kidding me. “Hey, everyone alright?” Moving towards the door, Payton gave the knob one last good shake before sighing and turning towards whoever else might be in here. “Am I talkin’ to myself in here, or what?” It was dark and he really couldn’t tell, but something told him to stay on edge and be ready for just about anything that sprang from the dark. “No one have better have been takin’ a shit or I swear--”
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paytonfischer · 4 years
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BLACK OUT EVENT LOCATION: THE MEN’S RESTROOM
Featured: @ckrongold, Payton, @mrjames-saint & @themiguelfuentes
Mentioned: @jennifcrkrongold , @akrongold , Marissa Diaz & @joshuakrongold
PAYTON: With the limited light source, Payton was unsure if the others had noticed them yet. But at the suggestion of a gun, he nodded his hand, holding it out towards Christopher. "Give it here." And as he spoke, he saw the approach of another, their features caught in the shadows. "Get the fuck back." Side stepping in front of Christopher, he gritted his teeth ready for just about everything. "Maybe it's a good time to get off the phone now, bro." Glancing over his shoulder towards him, he lifted a brow. "I'm sure your Aunt would understand."
CHRISTOPHER: Pausing for a beat, he thought about it. Out of anyone, Payton was best and most equipped to be holding the firearm, even if it meant leaving his own self defenseless. Christopher eventually pulled out the gun he had toted all night long, placing it in Payton's hand. At that point, he cared for discretion no longer; it was best if the Devils knew that they weren't blind and unprepared. Noting the sudden charged energy, Chris quickly clicked the call off, standing behind Payton, looking over his shoulder with tense features. "Don't you lot even try." he snarled, directing his focus onto the two other men in the unfortunate room with them.
JAMES: James stood next to Miguel, while he was concerned about the bleeding, he was much more worried about the gun in Paytons hands. Funny how earlier the three had be joking at the bar and now they were here. His gaze flicked to Miguel, knowing his was armed before his eyes landed on Christopher. He heard words spoken on the phone, 'he can have her'. In an instant he was pushing forward. "Tough words from the man hiding behind someone else." He said, his tone mocking him. "You must be scared then, pussy."
MIGUEL: He could feel the warm liquid trickling down his neck, threatening to soak his shirt. His weight was completely held up by the metal stall, fully aware he wouldn't be able to pull a trigger in that moment. Letting his gaze fall on James, he simply shook his head. Miguel couldn't prevent his head snapping in the direction of the mans words, the pain from his wound threatening to intensify. Watching the man move forward, Miguel made the effort to stand in front of James. His hand found the opposite wall, his balance completely off track. "Not here. Not now."
PAYTON: Naturally, it all somehow came down to a girl as Payton sighed and cocked the gun. This room was much too small for this much testosterone, and heated levels. “I said get back." The words were repeated, taking a step forward towards James. "Whoever she is, she ain't worth a bullet hole, buddy." Never taking his gaze off the two in front of him, he kept the weapon near his side. "Plus Chris is more a lover than a fighter, so let's quit with the nicknames." Was he trying to lighten the mood in a dire situation? Of course he was, but as his finger hovered over the trigger, he realized that something wasn't right. It seemed the gun was jammed, probably from Christopher's original fall, which meant they were down a weapon. However the other two didn't need to know that. 
CHRISTOPHER: His ears rang at James' cocky tone. "Fuck you, Saint." The audacity of the other man was astounding, and did nothing but make Christopher want to punch him in the face. "After you took my sister as your date, you're lusting after Marissa?" Add this revelation to his already bad night considering Marissa' s betrayal, and the fact that the other Devil guy with Marissa moments before was there as well, the Krongold male was beyond ready to let his frustrations out. Every fibre of his being was itching to have a go. He was only being held at bay by Payton's physical blocking, and the fact that the room could give and kill them all. Hence, the curled up fist by his side, as he shot icy glares at the other two. "You Devils are going to regret this." 
JAMES: James' lip curled into a snarl as he heard how the other used his name, but it was his use of Marissa's name that pushed him. "You don't get to say her fucking name, ever again." He shoved his phone into Miguel's hands, if he couldn't pull a trigger then he could hold the fucking flashlight. Chris' words sounded like the words of a child, someone who'd never had to fight his own battles before and James was ready to show him what regret really was. It took a few short steps to shove Payton and his jammed gun aside, hearing him crash into something without bothering to see where he fell. One hand grabbed the collar of Chris' shirt, his other pulled back before his fist connected with the side of the others face, his full strength behind it.
MIGUEL: Fumbling to take ahold of the phone, there was no stopping James' fury. Fully aware of what his fist were capable of, Miguel stood to the side. "What are you, a fucking child?" His form managed to adjust against the now crumbling tile, pointing the flashlight in the direction of the pair. As far as he knew, they weren't involved in making a building collapse. He knew the moment Chris mentioned Marissa, it was over. It was a line that Miguel knew not to cross with the man, even as a simple joke. He knew what James was capable of, especially when his buttons are pushed. Letting his tongue click against the roof of his mouth, he watched as James' grabbed ahold of Chris. "Bad fucking choice, little Prince." 
PAYTON: This was some shit as he stumbled back, falling to his ass as he glared towards the others. James had been cocky, acting even while Payton had a gun in his hand, which meant he didn’t care. Which was a whole lot more dangerous than someone with something to lose in his book. “Shit,” Pressing his palms into the dirty ground, he heaved himself up, the gun still in his grasp. "--get off him.” If he couldn’t shoot it, he might as well as use it as a weapon. Stumbling forward, he used the wall as leverage. "Could we stop with the fuckin' nicknames?" God, his head hurt. Everything hurt but his gaze was set on Christopher, determined to help his friend in any possible. 
CHRISTOPHER: Everything went to hell real fast. Yanked by James, Chris felt the force hit him, impairing him; his fight-or-flight instincts kicked in. With one hand grasping and clawing at James' curled fist by the fabric of his dress shirt, he immediately retaliated with a defensive punch to the other's face. He hated violence, but this was the only language their enemies spoke in. "Fuck you!" he bellowed, blood and spit flying as he delivered another blow, unwilling to be bested by this Devil. 
PAYTON: Making his way towards the two males, he lifted the gun, swinging it towards the back of James head. Using the blunt end to knock the balance off of the Devil, his fist now twisting into Jame's shirt. 
JAMES: The punches from Chris felt like nothing, James spent his time with real fighters not spoiled kids who thought they could step in like a big man. He could hear his blood roaring in his ear and while he saw Chris' lips moved there was no sound as he pulled his fist back, landing another blow, then another, and another. His fist was raised for another when he felt something hit his head, releasing his grip on Chris' shirt with a growl. He turned on the spot, his rage blinded him as he swung, his fist connecting with Paytons nose.
MIGUEL: The male watched as James' unleashed the anger, the anger he felt was evident from the blood forming on Christopher's face. Holding the phone up, he let the light flash overhead as James continued to lay blows. A slow nod came from Miguel as Chris attempted to withdraw from the man, unaware of the background James has. His gaze flickered as Payton moved towards James, the gun reaching to send one blow to the back of his head. Letting his free hand reach behind his back, his fingers wrapped around the handle of the pistol. A shaky hand raised the gun, the nose of the pistol pointed at Payton; but threatened to shift towards a tangled James and Chris. "Do we want to play this game?" 
PAYTON: There was a crunch and immediate blood flow from his nose, followed by a few curse words. “Come on, fuck.” This time as he lunged forward, he brought the shard of glass with him. If the other guy wanted to shoot him, he was gonna do it, it wouldn't stop Payton from doing his job. But as he was ready to deliver it into his side, but before he could have the chance, the door busted open, revealing a swarm of cops and paramedics. However, Payton didn’t care, not when his hands were still on Christopher and so he swung his arm, pushing the shard into the other’s shoulder before shoving his full weight into him and knocking him down. 
CHRISTOPHER: Chris could taste the blood on his lips, certain that his face was messed up, no thanks to James' doing. But the adrenaline coursing through his veins wouldn't let him back down just yet. It was, however, the pointed pistol at them that caused him to pause the fury that fueled him, giving him a split-second to decide. If he was gonna die in a men's restroom in the hands of a Devil, then Lord help him, he was gonna go down fighting. Just when Chris has accepted his fate, the door burst open, disrupting the flames of tension within the room. That is, as Payton drove the glass of shard right into James. On his feet with whatever energy he could muster, Chris forcibly pulled Payton back, untangling him from the other man. But the damage was done. 
JAMES: The sight of Chris' blood made James smirk, he'd told Jen if it came down to a fight with her brother he could take him, and he was right. The sound of the door bursting made him turn, automatically lifting his hands away from the fight. Then the shard of glass stabbed into his shoulder. He let out a pained yell, falling to his knees as his hand gripped his arm just under where the glass now penetrated his shoulder. His gaze landed on Payton and Chris, his eyes dark. "This is far from over you Royal pieces of shit." He said, spitting at their feet.
MIGUEL: Miguel couldn't help but chuckle as James' fist connected with Payton's nose, causing a rush of blood to trail down his face. Even two versus one, James was more than capable of taking them on. The gun wavered between the two, watching as the fight continued to unfold. Suddenly, the door began to break open; a rush of officers pointing flashlights. Letting the phone drop, Miguel shifted the gun backwards; tucking it back into his waistband. His legs threatened to give out as Payton rushed forward; a shard of glass piercing into James' shoulder. Letting his attention turn to the pair of Royals, he couldn't help but spit in their direction. "We'll see you around, boys." 
PAYTON: Glancing towards Christopher, he allowed himself to be pulled back as the officers rushed in. "Shit." He muttered out of breath, wiping the crimson stains on his palms against his pants. "Are you alright?" That was all that mattered as he panted, staring towards the other male, completely ignoring Miguel's comment.
CHRISTOPHER: Collapsing backwards, he let the exhaustion give way. Never mind his bloody, beat up face; Christopher surrendered from the ordeal, allowing the officers and the paramedics to take control of the scene. "I'm fine." he panted, continuously keeping his heated gaze locked onto the two Devils. Even as the two left, spitting at them like the  barbarians they were, there remained the rage and wanting to throttle them by their necks. Once gone, only then did he realise the damage the two of them suffered. Looking at the state he and Payton were now in, Chris was left with a conclusion: "We're in trouble now, Payton."
--fin.
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