by

Yanick Champoux (38%)

Lee Watts (18%)

Josip Nað (17%)

Michel Lacombe (16%)

Dorian (4%)

goldkngt55 (3%)

Andrew Avila (2%)

Marten (1%)

Oliver (1%)

Part 1

Yanick Champoux (16/10/2001)

Violence never resolved anything. It had, however, many times been proved an efficient way to postpone unwelcome trepasses on one's freedom and bodily well-being.

It is in this optic that Demuel rammed his fist elbow-deep into the soldier's face. With a baleful sputter, the only sound left available to his energetically deconstructed maxilla, the soldier allowed gravity to fix him a blind date with the floor. Damien's heart sank as the man felt. Picking a fight with a retainer of one of the great Houses was never a good idea. Picking it in the middle of the said House's barrack was slightly worse. Choosing noon and the main cafeteria to do the deed was classified, under most circumstances, in the no-no section.

He looked around. The shocked silence rapidly spreading around an epicenter corresponding to the exact point where his knuckles had freed the soldier's teeth from the long dictature of unelected gums was leaving little doubts of the troubles that were laying ahead of him if inspiration was not to visit him soon.

From a table behind him, Demuel heard the sound of a gun's security being flicked off. Did he said soon? Very soon was more like it.