MoonMan
Inactive Member
Rico expected a fist. He figured that with his superior upper body strength and (hopefully) more combat experience beneath his belt, blocking a simple strike from Suku, a medical assistant, would be an easy feat. He concluded that it would be best to hold his ground and toss her around again. Couple that with the fact that Rico didn't catch Suku's sly retrieval of the liquor bottle, and yes, Rico expected a fist.
Not a bottle. No, that was a surprise. Being so close and unready to perform a good dodge, Rico had precious little time to react. The arc she had swung was wide, and what with the tables, patrons and a groaning mound at his feet, Rico's maneuvering choices were limited, at best. So, Rico did the first thing that came to mind; he threw a punch too.
Rico's fist collided with the bottom of the liquor bottle, causing a large shower of broken glass and biting alcoholic fumes with a resounding crash. When the dust settled, so to speak, Rico pulled his arm back and caught sight of a few shards of the broken glass embedded into his knuckles. The metallic surface hidden beneath a layer of synthetic skin made the blow barely noticeable, but 15 years prior of having these wonderful cybernetics still caused Rico to instinctively shake his hand as though to somehow alleviate the non-existent pain.
When it was over with, Rico felt pretty proud. After all, he just punched a glass bottle, and any red-blooded Nepleslian knew there was always something strangely satisfying about breaking glass. Cracking a cocky smirk, Rico flicked a small stubborn shard of glass out from between his fleshy knucklebone.
"I ain't callin' ya short, babe. I'm callin' ya weak, lonely an' scared. Nothin' like Babs or Vee."
Not a bottle. No, that was a surprise. Being so close and unready to perform a good dodge, Rico had precious little time to react. The arc she had swung was wide, and what with the tables, patrons and a groaning mound at his feet, Rico's maneuvering choices were limited, at best. So, Rico did the first thing that came to mind; he threw a punch too.
Rico's fist collided with the bottom of the liquor bottle, causing a large shower of broken glass and biting alcoholic fumes with a resounding crash. When the dust settled, so to speak, Rico pulled his arm back and caught sight of a few shards of the broken glass embedded into his knuckles. The metallic surface hidden beneath a layer of synthetic skin made the blow barely noticeable, but 15 years prior of having these wonderful cybernetics still caused Rico to instinctively shake his hand as though to somehow alleviate the non-existent pain.
When it was over with, Rico felt pretty proud. After all, he just punched a glass bottle, and any red-blooded Nepleslian knew there was always something strangely satisfying about breaking glass. Cracking a cocky smirk, Rico flicked a small stubborn shard of glass out from between his fleshy knucklebone.
"I ain't callin' ya short, babe. I'm callin' ya weak, lonely an' scared. Nothin' like Babs or Vee."