02-22-2018, 07:38 PM
The Russian propped the cue against the wall and rounded on him. Ryker was the taller, but the differences in their physicality did not phase the drunkard. "I suggest you step back."
Ryker said coolly. He had little intention of making an additional scene. If anyone was going to be punched, it would have been that kid at the bar.
Though now that he thought about it, interacting the Yakuza was going to try his patience all the more. Being spoken at by the younger of the two Japanese on behalf of the elder was demeaning.
This wasn't the first time he had to swallow his pride. First hour of recruit training taught him the only way to survive was to swallow the pride and deal with imbeciles. Soon enough, the skin thickened; the hide took the lashes. Metaphorically, anyway. Let someone try to raise a hand to him and no amount of patience would protect from him.
His gaze slid past the younger of the two Russians and promptly dropped below those of the Waka gashira, albeit only momentarily.
"Sato san, the honor is mine."
The words were forced, but the tribute was paid. It was then that movement caught the edges of his vision. The elder of the two Russians sniffed. "`Suka,"
he mumbled with a twist of disgust on his lips.
Ryker slowly swivelled, patience wearing thin. He took a deep breath. "Join me at a table?"
He turned to guide the pair away, aware of dark eyes jabbing into the back of his head as he did.
Ryker said coolly. He had little intention of making an additional scene. If anyone was going to be punched, it would have been that kid at the bar.
Though now that he thought about it, interacting the Yakuza was going to try his patience all the more. Being spoken at by the younger of the two Japanese on behalf of the elder was demeaning.
This wasn't the first time he had to swallow his pride. First hour of recruit training taught him the only way to survive was to swallow the pride and deal with imbeciles. Soon enough, the skin thickened; the hide took the lashes. Metaphorically, anyway. Let someone try to raise a hand to him and no amount of patience would protect from him.
His gaze slid past the younger of the two Russians and promptly dropped below those of the Waka gashira, albeit only momentarily.
"Sato san, the honor is mine."
The words were forced, but the tribute was paid. It was then that movement caught the edges of his vision. The elder of the two Russians sniffed. "`Suka,"
he mumbled with a twist of disgust on his lips.
Ryker slowly swivelled, patience wearing thin. He took a deep breath. "Join me at a table?"
He turned to guide the pair away, aware of dark eyes jabbing into the back of his head as he did.