No one corrupt my peace~

Artemis stepped into the café, he'd probably been here before. But it had been a while, it was hard to keep track of all the places he ate. It was fairly quiet all things considered, not that it mattered. That just meant the food would get out to him quicker. He headed over to the counter he had a hankering for something savoury to eat. It wasn't like he could cook it for himself. Artemis hadn't made much more than a sandwich most of his life, having grown up with family chefs and caterers. Cooking was a waste of time right? Time to be spent training. Wasn't that what they were trying to instil in him, he wasn't sure. They moaned about him not being spoiled and yet their backwardly lavished their money on servants and luxuries. The Dagger Family, with their odd parenting values. But sure enough, he relied mostly on the hands of others to feed him, that and the jewels in his pocket.

"I'll take the mega mixed grill, with fries on the side." He ordered, handing over the jewels necessary. The mega plate was way to much even for him, but he was hungry and what did he care if he wasted food. They would just scrap it anyway right. Or take it home for themselves, heck if anything it a favour from him to them. He strolled away, sliding over to a table, and sitting down. As his red eyes looked ahead, he spotted a guy on the table across from him, leaning down a feeding a cat. He eyed the feline, a stray. He watched as it hungrily ate the morsels he was feeding her, it was clearly starving. A feeling he had never experienced himself. He looked on, not in the least bit abashed about the fact he was clearly staring.

Art watched casually as the cat left, it was moments latter that he own plate a food arrived. "Whoa..." The word slipped from his lip, best representing his genuine surprise. "I may have over-estimated myself..." He said to the waiter with a grin. The waiter offered him a polite smile, although it clearly masked a small disdain. Because one lean guy such as Artemis could surely not finish such an intense plate of food. Ribs, Chicken, Steak, Shrimp all stacked up in a steamy pile. With a mountain of crispy fries sitting on the side, Art salivated a little bit. He couldn't wait to divulge. "I'll have a jug of water." He told the water, he was gonna need to wash this down if he was going to get through this.


Reaching forward, he started with the juicy 12 ounce steak before him, watching as the juices spilled out as he sliced a piece of. Not bad for a small time café. They were clearly trying to lure in more male customers, a meal like this would sate the needs of any man coming from a rough job. Magnolia was pinnacle town for mages after all, so it made sense. Not a bad business strategy. He thought casually as he ate, Although this place has a major lack in presentation, it could do with some work on it's aesthetic. He thought, he sighed. He couldn't help but think this way, it was a dagger mindset. To analyse and assess, to review the best way to make money. As much as he fought it, it was in his blood.

He felt the knock of someone bumping into his chair, he looked up, mouthful of meat. It was that guy again, the one he had watched feeding the cat. Art stared at him for a moment, before swallowing his bite. He wasn't bothered by the guys action, just mildly surprise. He offered a polite smile, "No worries mate." He told the guy, before reaching down and grabbing a chip. He popped it into his mouth, chewing it slowly, it was good. Soft on the inside, lightly salted with a crunchy skin.

From the front of the café entrance, the doors burst open aggressively, slamming against the walls on each side. Stepping inside were three burly men, their oversized muscles practically bursting out of there tank tops. Random and unimpressive tattoos covered their arms as they flexed their shoulders. They began to walk forward, causing the sound of scraping as they yanked chairs out of their way as they walked through. A nervous waiter approached, "Umm, excuse me-" his words cut off as he was barged aside by the one at the front. The first of which and clearly the leader of the three, sporting a rather over the top green mohawk, made his way to the front counter. Stepping in front of the guy waiting for his sandwich, he leaned on the counter. "My men and I will have three plates o' meat, we don't care what meat. Just put it on a plate." He ordered, his pals exchanged dopey grins behind him.

The man behind the counter eyed him, torn between what to say, "I'm sorry Sirs, there's a que. You'll have to wait in it, like everyone else." He told them, doing his best to maintain a confident demeanour. The guy with the mohawk frowned, looking back at the guys with him "Ya hear that boys? We gotta wait, like everyone else?" They grunted in response. "But ye see, that don't quite sit with us. How 'bout this, you give us our meal and we wont burn this shit'ol to the ground." He looked back at the guy behind the counter, his eyes glowing with a menacing heat.

The whole time, Art sat watching the ordeal, chewing on a leg of chicken. His expression unfazed, as he contemplated what to do. His eyes moved towards the guy waiting for his sandwich, he smirked. He had sense a little bit of magic from him, he wondered if he would step in. Art swallowed his bite, sitting back in his seat. He could step in if he wanted to, but he wanted to watch it play out first.

The guy with the mohawk turned to look at the guy that had spoke to him, an incredulous expression on his face as though he couldn't believe this guy had spoke over him. It was then another woman in the que behind the guy spoke up, holding her pregnant belly. "You heard him, just get to the back of the que or leave." She told them bravely, Artemis sighed, dropping his chicken bone. He grabbed a napkin and wiped his hands casually.

"It seems boys these 'ere folk don't know when to hold their tongue, I reckon' we should teach 'em a lesson." The two grunts stepped forward, one of them reached for the pregnant woman's arms, but before he could grab it. Artemis was there, casually smacking his hand away. He tutted, a smile on his face, his red eyes glinting dangerously.

"Now lads, you've been asked to leave this establish, this is your last chance. You leave now conscious and in the same physical state as you walked in. Or well you don't want the other option trust me."

The grunts exchanged looks, "Get 'im." The mohawk guy ordered. Art sighed, "You've asked for this," He turned to the que, "Ladies and gentlemen, would you kindly step over to the far side of the room." He asked them politely, his sense telling him that henchman number one was pulling back his fist to throw a punch. Art turned back sharply, dodging the hit smoothly. He reached up, grabbing his wrist, his twisted it while pulling it forward. The guy turned from the force, Art pulled the arm up behind his back, grabbing the guys neck. He turned him towards a table before smashing his face down into it. The other guy grabbed at him, Art left go of the second guys arm for a second to elbow his pal in the face, a crack echoed through the room and blood poured out of the guys nose. He fell back clutching his face, Art quickly re-grabbed the second guys arms, pulling it up hard. Earning a pained squeal from the guy as it was yanked at an unnatural angle. He looked up to the check what the head guy was doing.

Art looked over to see the head of the group holding the guy at the counter by the scruff of his clothes. Art narrowed his eyes before looking back at the guy below him, "Look mate, I've already busted your friends nose and that's the tip of the iceberg. I could easily dislocate your arm here, are you sure you want that?" He challenge, the guy still for a moment, even Art's words had got through to his thick skull. He didn't want that, but he didn't want to back down in front of his pals either. Art glanced back over to the other guy, know noticing the guy holding his neck around the other, Art spotted the reflection of light from the guys hand and grinned. Looks like he was useful after all. Art reached across the table and grabbed a fork, taking the cuff of the guys shirt, he stabbed it through the shirt and the table. Before letting him guy, as the guy went to stand, he was pulled down by the tug of the fork holding him. He watched the other guy leave with a smirk, before returning his gaze to the leader.

"I think, you should pay for everyone meals here as an apology for your behaviour. These folk come here for a quiet meal and you piles of shit waltz in acting like you own the place." The guy ran at him, "Watch your mout-" Before he could finish his sentence, Art jabbed him in the throat sharply, causing him to wheeze. Art stood there and tutted, "Pay for their meals, then leave." His eyes began to grow black and demonic as he gazed at them, his teeth beginning to grow sharp. "Or you'll be regretted this day for the rest of your pathetic lives." The immediate fear in the room was obvious, the three men fumbled around in their pockets for any cash they had. Planted it on the table and quickly left the café. Art allowed his face to return to normal. He glanced over at the people in the room, they all see unharmed. Art walked back over to his table, taking a seat, he picked up a rib and carried on eating.


END

ART's WC : 1760 / 1500