Catching the eye roll, she sqaured her shoulders, standing taller. "Yeah…." she cut off. She wasn't sure if it was aggresion or just teasing that the other boy was going for, but better safe than sorry. Her hand inched towards her pocket, where her pocket knife was offering her comfort.
"N-No offense. I'm pretty sure you could poke someone's eye out," Vien added quickly, taking another drag of the cigarette to calm his sudden anxiety. He felt okay at first alone on the tailgate earlier, but now that he was actually having to talk to people the fact that he was sitting in a sea of people was starting to get to him
(Sorry, I disappeared for a moment.)
"Yeah, Lavi could probably take down any guy here," Beau said, smirking faintly as he took a drag of his cigarette, placing it between his fingers after a few moments. He glanced towards the other side of the parking lot, noticing a group of Social's moving towards where Lucky had gone. He narrowed his eyes in concern but shook his head. His brother could handle them.
(no problem)
"Lavi?" Vien asked, crossing an arm over his stomach as he took another puff of his cigarette. He let the smoke stream from his nose instead this time, glancing up at the stars boredly
Beau motioned towards the girl in front of him, tilting his head towards her in response. He leaned back against the truck again, gazing out towards the group of socials. A few Greaser's were jogging over and some chants erupted. Lucky. He immediately thought, glancing over at Vien and Lavi once again. "Looks like there might be a fight. . ." Beau muttered, flicking his cigarette off to the side as he began to make his way towards the huddled group of teenagers.
((god this is a lot of plot, I hope this is okay))
After thirty minutes of non-stop movie and chattering teens, Vincent decided it was time to fuck some shit up. He slid off of the car and shrugged off his jacket, throwing it into the passenger seat. "What the fuck are you doing?" Vincent ignored the clear undertones of a threat from a gal in the backseat.
"Nothin'," he leered, "how about you stop riding my ass and focuses on the movie." The girl stuck her tongue out at him, and swung her body into the front seat of the car, allowing one person to slip out of the window seat and sit with three other people in the back of the two seater.
Vincent dipped into the crowd of socializing teens, mixing himself into a large group of Greasers. He looked around for an empty car, glancing around as he approached it, and letting a small smirk appear on his face when he spotted and dirty, unwashed black hoodie in the back seat. With a quick slide of hand he slipped it out of the car and slipped it on. He cringed at the B.O., but still let his hair loose from his pony tail, and pulled the hood over his head.
Vincent mixed in with the Greasers until he was in the very back of the crowd, and let loose a loud, "The Socials are such fuckin' posers!" He smirked to himself when everything went quiet and just seemed to kind of freeze.
He didn't move until hell broke loose. And then he weaved quickly away, stripping off the jacket and discarded it onto the ground. Tying his hair up as the two gangs began to scream at each other. He made his way back to his car, and opened the passenger door, shoving the gal back into the backseat, squishing the four, now five, pilled onto each other already.
"It's time to fuckin' beat feat. Let's get the fuck out of here."
Vien's eyes widened as all hell suddenly broke loose. He reached for his penknife in his boot, but before he could grab it a Social was knocking him to his feet next to Beau. "Motherfucker!" he shouted indignantly, swinging at the guy on top of him. He hit him square in the nose, stunning him enough to shove him off. He got to his feet, kicking the Social in the head before leaning down to steal his wallet. He pocketed it before shouldering his way through a crowd of people fleeing as he tried to get through
Beau watched as Social's and Greaser's ran and swung at one another, his gaze only focused on finding his brother. After a few moments, he noticed Lucky on the ground, unconscious with blood dripping down from his nose and the side of his head. He felt his anger flare up as he walked towards the Social's looming over his brother.
"Look who decided to join us," One of them sneered, walking towards Beau. The Social already loomed over him, several inches taller. "It's Jack Frost himself!" He taunted, motioning to the Greaser's white blond hair.
"Shut up, bastard," Beau snapped, stepping towards the boy as his lanky Social friends stepped to his sides. "Let's get this fucking over with." He glanced down at his brother on the ground, wincing in pain to see him like that.
Vien finally made his way through the crowd only to see the white-haired guy hovering over someone who looked just like him on the ground. There was a group of Socials on the other side of him, and he smirked as he used the crowd to get behind them. Without warning he socked one of the Socials in the jaw, making sure he rose to his full height as he towered over half of them
Beau managed to hit one of the other boys, but the next one tackled him to the ground. Being twice his weight, the Social was able to pin him to the ground and punch his jaw and nose. After a few moments of pushing and yelling, Beau swung and connected with the boy's left cheekbone, pushing away as he fumbled to get his switchblade out of his jacket's pocket. Before he could flick his wrist and turn around, something cold dug into his leg as he glanced down, seeing a knife protruding from his jeans.
"EVERYBODY! CALM THE FUCK DOWN!" Lisbet stood on top of a car, waving a random baseball bat in the air. She spotted Mikka in the crowd and she motioned for him to back off. "We are NOT having a fight in this crummy parking lot nor are we going to have a fight anywhere else! This is stupid!" She spat her lollipop at the ground, hitting some guy in the back of his head. "We ain't getting the police involved, again! A'ight? If y'all want to have a fight, get it organized in some kinda alleyway."
Vien turned to look at the Social that had just stabbed Beau. Before he knew what he was doing he was cutting into the guy’s arm, sending him sprawling to the ground. He kicked him for good measure before turning to the other Socials still standing. “Fuck. Off,” he spat, and the shorter guys stood there for a moment before running off. He turned to Beau, wincing in sympathy at the blade in his leg. “You need help?” he asked, proud he had managed to keep the stutter from his voice
"We need to get my brother out of here," Beau answered quickly, wincing as he pulled the blade out of his leg. He started to move towards Lucky with a slight limp, looping his arms under his shoulders in order to lift him up. Shouting and the sound of punching continued as the fight spread throughout the parking lot, a few adults attempting to stop it.
“I’ve got enough for a b-bus to my place, we can patch him up w-while my folks are asleep,” Vien said, glaring at some Socials who walked by them. He stopped to rummage through the pockets of one of the guys he had knocked out, pleased to find a few 10s in his pocket
Lisbet sighed and jumped off of the car, swinging the baseball bat towards anyone who tried to get near her.
"Who do we have here? A pretty Social girl?" A group of boys approached her, obviously looking for somebody to mess with.
She gritted her teeth. "You don't want to mess with me, dirt-bags."
"You don't have anyone to watch your back." They slowly circled around her and she held her baseball bat out, narrowing her eyes. I can take them. A few bruises aren't that bad. Remember, don't run. Running away is pathetic and weak. But I just want to go home and finish that 18th century dress I've been working on! No, shut up, I have to stay.
Beau nodded, glancing at his brother to check for any cuts or wounds. After a few moments, he stood up, carrying half of Lucky's weight as he began to move towards the exit of the parking lot. A few officers and adults began to move towards the fight, sending most of the Greasers and the Socials scattering.
Vincent cackled as they burnt rubber, reversing jerky and fast. The others in the back laughed loudly when they skimmed another car, but made it out fine.
"You're an asshole you know that?" One of the boys barked at Vincent, holding onto the driver's seat as to not go flying, "I was watching that!"
Vincent flashed him a smirk as they swerved around the parking lot. "I'll take you out again sometime, how's that?"
The boy scowled, "Ya, no. Fuck you. You're just gonna start another fight."
Vincent snorted.
They took one look at the officers and practically fell on top of each other trying to get away. Thank god. Lisbet dropped the baseball bat onto the ground and hopped onto her Vespa, starting the engine and driving to the diner. Mikka will be there.
Vien growled at a Social who gave him a look, shoving his way though the crowd and towards the bus stop a few feet away. Luckily the bus was just arriving, and Vien fumbled with his stolen wallet before throwing a quick glance at Beau. “C’mon,” he said, making sure he wasn’t lagging too far behind
"Lion, Love," Vincent turned to the driver for the week, "stop at the diner on your way. I want a milkshake." The driver gave him an amused slide glance, and glanced into the rearview mirror when multiple noises of agreement sounded.
"I want a shake too, Luci," Vincent gave him a pleasant smile when smokey grey eyes trained on him for a moment, before turning back to the road.
"Vinny," he murmured, low and smooth, his eyes trained on the road, "you're paying."
Lisbet stopped at the lit-up diner with bright neon lights, parking her Vespa near the entrance and practically sprinting inside. She took a booth, staring at the baby blue and pastel pink menu that matched the color scheme of the place and looking up each time someone entered, hoping that Mikka would come. Maybe he bailed.
"Hello, Ms. Gutter." The big old man stood next to her chrome table, kind blue eyes peering down from his glasses. He chuckled, a deep sound coming from his large belly.
"Pop!" Lisbet's eyes sparkled and she leaned forward in her vinyl seat.
"No Mikka today?"
She sighed, her chin resting on the palm of her hand. "There was a fight today. Greasers and the Socials started it all. I don't understand! The Greasers are so. . .so. .urgh! Frustrating! The Socials can be total asses too. Acting like they're all hotshots and whatnot. Why can't we all just get along?"
Pop laughed, patting Lisbet's head, as if she were a disgruntled kitten. "You sound grumpy. Need a milkshake? Vanilla with extra whip, correct?"
"Thanks, Pop. You really know how to make a gal feel better."
Vien growled at a Social who gave him a look, shoving his way though the crowd and towards the bus stop a few feet away. Luckily the bus was just arriving, and Vien fumbled with his stolen wallet before throwing a quick glance at Beau. “C’mon,” he said, making sure he wasn’t lagging too far behind
Beau continued to move next to Vien, though it was hard to see him in the dark. The only thing that assured him that it was the right person was the boy's height. He continued to follow, constantly readjusting his hold on Lucky so he wouldn't fall to the ground.
Vien got onto the bus, getting them a seat near the front so they wouldn’t have to walk as much. “My place is just a f-few blocks away, we’ll be there in a f-few minutes.”
Zanna was watching from the background as the fight broke out. Yeah, she shouldn't be there. No, she didn't have back up. Did she care? Nope.
(Wow….a lot happened….)
Finley, who had left the car to try and find something to eat, returned empty handed to a disgruntled and very injured pack of Greasers. "What the hell happened here?!" He exclaimed, noticing that they were missing some of their group.