TIME. may 3, 1:14am PLACE. guzman’s mutant-frequented bar, little venice, located in wynwood, miami. WITH. [open to anyone] CONTEXT CUES. a fight broke out, and your character was involved -- either starting it, or being caught up in it -- and guzman is here to straighten things up. feel free to turn this into a prestablished connection if it makes sense.
AS SOON AS GUZMÁN WALKS IN shouting turns to whispers, music fades to white noise, and threats choke back into gasps. A disquieting silence engulfs the room, and everyone stops what they’re doing to look at him. Nobody, however, meets his eyes when he glances back at them. Instead, all attention diverts to the back end of the bar, where the more private booths are located, and where three battered patrons stand awaiting for their fate. Behind them, four reasonably sized men stand all too closely, attentive to their every move, watchful for any attempts to escape or resume the brawl. Guzmán slices neatly through the throng that’s parted with his presence and makes a beeline toward them without so much as a second thought, without so much as anger or joy or thrill to be found in his dark, piercing stare.
He stands before them and looks at them for what feels like forever, but it’s most likely just seconds. Stands, smokes, and studies their faces as though he can peel back the skin and the muscle and peek into their brains and read their thoughts as they’re being decoded and flashed through their minds. But unfortunately, that is not the power conferred to him, so in the end he blinks at the huge bouncers behind the agitators and two of them are forcefully dragged farther into the back to disappear into the dim neon-lit hallway. There’s struggle, there’s bargaining, there’s threats -- it all falls on aloof ears as Guzmán merely readjusts his wristwatch and doesn’t care to watch them leave.
He’s left, then, with just one. And he smiles at this one with the warmth of a friend, gives them that signature Guzmán smile that seems to hug you and caress a knife across your bare stomach just the same. “So,” he starts, and his smile widens, like this is some kind of inside joke. “Will you explain what happened, or are you going to make me draw it out of you?”
