The room was styled like a biker lounge, with tables and seating all around, and a jukebox in the corner. Up at the front of the room there was a raised platform. It used to be a stage, but lately it was used only by those in charge to make announcements or displays of whatever is deemed necessary. Tonight was one such night, and the room was quietly abuzz with the scene up front. Men in women bikers, punks, and even a suit or two were in attendance, waiting.
Up front near the stage, two typical thugs were tightly holding on to another young man. The thugs were your typical burly biker types, but the man held between them was average height, with long, dirty blonde hair, brown eyes, wearing ripped jeans and a leather jacket. They were waiting. They were all of them waiting.
The man strung up between the goons was busy mouthing off, laughing at the two thugs, trying to get them riled up so they would let him go. He knew they weren’t supposed to hurt him, but he wanted to provoke them. He’d just about gotten one of them to break, when a young Asian woman entered the room. She was on the shorter end, standing only about 5’6” and that was with her combat boots on. Her black hair was pulled away from her face, pinned up with chopsticks, her brown eyes locked onto the man strung between the thugs. In addition to her combat boots, she wore a pair of tight-fitting jeans, a corset style top, and a deep blue kimono jacket with a hand-painted design.
She stopped just short of her target, staring at him. “Fred.”
“Kimiko.” he said, his tone slightly mocking.
“I’m not going to spare you this time.” she stated, narrowing her eyes slightly.
“I don’t expect you too.” he stated.
She turned her gaze to the thugs. “What is the meaning of this, please?” she asked.
“The Sheriff sent us. Seeing as how he has a great deal of respect for you, he didn’t report Fred to the Prince for punishment. But if it happens again, he will.” Thug A spoke.
“You have failed to mention what it is that Fred did.” she said, her tone even, teetering on angry.
“As far as we can tell, he nearly violated the masquerade.” Thug B said.
“Again.” Thug A added.
“Let him go, and leave him to me.” she spoke.
They let him go, thrusting him forward roughly as they did so, with a grin apiece. “See that it doesn’t happen again, Kimiko.”
“He’ll be dealt with.” She called to the room of men and women at large.
At this juncture, several volunteers in the room made sure to close the blinds and lock the doors. Watching their Primogen at work was a rare privilege, and no one wanted to miss it. Fred stepped up to the platform and waited.
“You know what happens now, don’t you?” she asked.
Fred nodded. “You try to teach me a lesson.”
“Try?” she smirked. “You may test that assumption at your convenience.”
Fred grinned. He’d been itching for a fight, and the opportunity to outshine the Primogen was very appealing. With a quick movement, he struck. Kimiko did not move, letting the blow hit her. Whispers sounded around the room, people wondering why she had allowed it. Stunned himself, Fred froze a moment, then tried to hit her in a flurry of blows. She dodged this time, crouching down and using her strength to launch herself upward to the very height of the rather high ceiling, before coming down hard, one foot stuck out to crush Fred’s head in.
The fight continued, with Fred getting in a few blows, and Kimiko dancing around trouncing him and letting him think he was winning, near the end. The problem was, he got cocky, and let his ego get the better of him. He mocked her, trying to imitate her art style, and throw in some misogynistic comments here and there. He successfully leg swept her, and she lay flat on her back for a moment. He turned to the crowd and grinned. “See? Who’s the better fighter now? Some stupid Primogen, or me?” he said, trying to get the crowd onto his side.
While she was lying on her back, she discreetly pulled the lacquered chopsticks out of her hair, and did a kip up. While he was distracted, the ran past him, ran up the wall and flipped backward toward him, pulling off a hurricanrana, knocking him on his ass. Swiftly, she grabbed him by the throat and chucked him against a wall, causing a Fred-sized dent. Not giving him a chance to get up, she grabbed him again and raised him as high in the air as she could.
“Learn you lesson, whelp.” she said through gritted teeth, and used the laquered chopsticks to bore through both hands. She nodded over to one of her clan, who handed her two sharpened pencils. She drove one through the center of his forehead, burying it into the wall, before staking him entirely, a shocked look on his face. Kimiko then turned to face the crowd.
“We are Brujah. This is how we police our own.” she said. There were cheers from some of those gathered in the room. “The Ventrue may be in charge, but we will not let them rule us, or make us less.” Louder cheers. “So we police our own, and keep ourselves in check. Let this night be a lesson to all of you.”