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"-addya say, bitch? Wanna ride with a real man? Bet I can help you remember what's between your legs real quick when they're in the air!" The trio started to laugh raucously as the boldest of the three threw vitriol at the redhead at the bar, casually leaned back against it as he laughed, every shortle shaking his unapologetically awesome tits in the face of his assailants. "Bro, the only way y'all gettin' my legs in the air is if my foot confuses yo' face for yo' ass when I try t'kick it."
As fate would have it, Tommy was walking towards the bar in their own androgynous form. They had heard rumors that the place had been ... less than welcoming, and they were thinking that manipulating some energies would be of use.
They were in a very masculine frame, but with feminine curves. They wore a suit and skirt combo, in emerald green, white undershirt and red tie.
A tilt of their heads as they went through the door and overheard the words going back and forth. They reached into their satchel and pulled out a rod made of petrified wood, and kept their hand in their satchel as well...
"Yes. I would recommend that y'all realize that it's almost two thousand twenty three," her voice was supernaturally enhanced to the maximum of human potential, and they remained entirely too calm for this sort of situation.
The whole bar winced at the theoretically plausibly human volume, the trio turning that way, swearing, and glaring. "And who the fuck are you supposed to be in that, you gettin' pimped out by a leprechaun?" "Yeah, or the Riddler?" "Jack, shut the fuck up about goddamn Batman, this ain't the fuckin' time."
Eyes beneath wild red curls took stock of the newcomer, glancing at the rod of wood. He sniffed, tilted his head. "See? We don't owe you fuckin' masculine presentation or any-fuckin-thing else. You keep this shit up, y'all gonna end up out-the fuck-numbered."
"What? You 88 folx don't like the colors of the flag of Mexico? Darn. And here I was hoping that y'all would be so happy to see a non-binary latinx person come visit." They sighed and shook their head, "Now who am I going to take to bring your skinhead to jail day."
"You can take Nick." "Shut UP, Marco, I ain't getting involved in this shit." One of the corner booths chimed in, the shaved-headed gentleman having the sense to stay the fuck out of that noise.
"So what's the deal, mm? Y'all gonna go sit down an'accept ain't a fuckin' thing any of y'all got that does anything but shrivel me up like a li'l mocha craisin? Or y'all REAL eager to tell yourself that it wasn't that bad cuz at least you didn't get yo asses kicked by a chick?"
They took a few steps to the side of the door, so no one was at their backs potentially and used Evan's latest verbal repartee to grab their coin out of their pocket and start striking the chest like tarzan might, as if mocking the men. Evan would feel himself grow even more physically tough, if possible.
The trio seemed to catch on that the pair seemed entirely too eager to drag them outside and made a tactical retreat, muttering to themselves as the redhead stood and called over, "Yeah, have a good night" through a smirk as she paid her tab and headed for the door. "Bar's all yours if you got something left t'get out of it."
Tommy decided to follow the statuesque individual, intrigued with the possibilities of a night like this, "Howdy, I'm Tommy!"
The greeting drew the redhead's attention back, eyebrows raised at the choice of phrasing. "Uh. Howdy, parder." A bit of a snicker, if a good-natured one. "Thanks for the backup. I had it handled, but thanks all the same." He offered his hand. "Evan, he/him. Pleasure."
They took the hand with a wide grin, "I'm as presenting, so tonight, they them. I had heard about trouble and after some recent work stress, thought maybe I could work them out a bit here.... Similar for you, Senor?"
"Something like that, yeah," Evan demurred, avoiding the specifics. "I'm as happy to send'em grumbling back to a corner booth as I am t'throw hands. Worked out okay far as I care. You seemed... invested," he stated, "What with all the chest thumpin'n'shit. You a fan of fightin', or just of seein' assholes get theirs?"
"Eh, just getting into it. Assholes like that think they're all the 'alpha' types. I find that offensive in no less than five ways. So sometimes when you act more to them, then they back away... Chicken shits." The Lost would feel some simmering anger from the Awakened. "I've also dealt with enough recently that going out of character for something like this sounded entertaining."
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