Violent Altercation

Rick was momentarily stunned upon hearing the boy's accusation. He was irked, yes, but most of all he was genuinely curious as to what nonsense the kid had to serve him.

Raising his brows, he issued quite the prying exclamation, "Oho," then added, "What could you be talking about, kiddo?"

"Can't we just drop the act? We're all busy people here," Pen said.

"B-bwahahaha!" the bartender behind the counter had gone into a laughing fit as the rest of the crowd broke into a burst of laughter.

"Ha ha ha!"

"This boy's something else!", "Watcha mean by busy? Sucking your momm-"

*thud!*

Just before one scoundrel at the far end of the room could feel good about his crude remark, a metallic utensil was now lunged on the wall behind him. Just an inch away from his naked cheek.

The instrument gradually stabilized from the intense vibration, and finally revealed its raw form. A fork.

"Ahh, I've really rusted, perhaps because of this god-awful weather?" Rick muttered to himself as he picked a similar utensil while nimbly twiddling it on his fingers.

The customers were shocked into silence, probably due to fright. After all, if that fork landed on someone's skin instead, it would certainly peck a fraction of flesh or simply get buried entirely.

Rick then continued, his icy gaze scanning the tavern from left to right, "If you uncultured lot dared to intrude in my discussion again, I'd make sure one of these will gauge an eye or two.."

Despite the cold weather, Pen could feel his sweat rampantly trickling down from his forehead. 'Maybe I should just stop acting tough,' he silently advised himself.

On the other hand, Paper was keenly observing Rick which god only knows what ludicrous idea she was currently harboring.

"Follow me, you two," Rick ushered the twins inside the tavern's back room.

Without much of a choice on the matter, the pair trailed behind Rick as they prepared themselves for the eventualities.

As they entered the room, two figures made their presence known through hostile glares as it fell on the twins. A man and woman with a striking resemblance to Rick, evidently, they were the tavern owner's kin.

Contrary to the stinking odor of the mess hall outside, the room exuded a fragrance that was supremely familiar to the twins. Their eyes then briefly met as their unspoken conjectures shared the same wavelength.

"Let's not beat around the bush," Pen began impatiently, "Could you return our goods which one of your men snatched from us?"

Dragging his heels over Pen's assertive complaint, Rick beckoned at the open seats at the center of the room, urging the Pen and Paper to comfort themselves.

But the pair remained to stand, stubbornly unmoving from their spot. They were already just barely at shoulder length of Rick, the pressure would just mount by being stared down.

Rick pulled a chair for himself and planted his large frame on it, "Give me something to eat, Jon."

"On it, Father."

The slim figure of a man draped with a weathered apron then busied himself at the scullery. After a short while, he served a bowl of steaming hot soup to his father.

"Don't expect an answer by being vague, what items are you seeking out, precisely?" Rick asked as he dug onto his meager meal.

A lady with short hair chestnut hair and a face dotted with freckles said indifferently, "Who might these two, dear father?"

"Jess' kids, they think we stole something from them," Rick replied uninterestedly.

"What manner of possession could two, homeless tramps have?" the woman questioned, hurling insults from the get-go, "Barging in like that, maligning our good names, I wonder who gave you the courage to be so insolent."

"I know it's your men that perpetrated a robbery on a merchant this daybreak. I've seen your antics far too often in the past years to know you had a hand on it, at least." Pen retorted, not giving an inch.

"How bold," the woman peeled her back away from the wall where she was leaning, then crossed arms, and sauntered around the pair like an inquisitor passing verdict upon the heretics.

"First, proof is always the burden of the accuser, if your claims proved to be a load of horse shit, spinning for whatever reason.." she said while cupping Pen's shoulders with her palms and gently whispered in his ear, "Which limb are you willing to forfeit?"

But before she could extract an answer from Pen, a tiny hand gripped her wrist as the assailant hissed murderously, "Take your hands away, from my brother."

"It's fine, Sis."

Nodding at her brother's assurance, Paper pulled the woman's hand away from Pen, her grip loosening ever so slightly.

"What fierce sister you have, quite the contrast to your calm demeanor," the woman said, stroking her now reddened wrist.

"Careful woman, her ferocity isn't something you can put test without your ribs broken."

"..So you're not only daring, you're quite the bluffer as well," she scoffed but at the far end corner of her mind, she somewhat knew that the boy wasn't spouting complete rubbish as evidenced by her tingling hand.

"Now then, if you think you've got something on us, lay it down. Otherwise," her voice was now laced with palpable hostility.

"I have, but whatever I say might prove futile as there doesn't exist a culprit who admits to his crime, right? So you know-"

*shring!*"

A grating sound of metal brushing against metal echoed in the room, like a rusted weapon forcibly drawn from its sheathe.

"I know, your tongue, yes, let's see how far you can go being glibbed without one," Jon stated while beaming a gentle smile, his eyes abnormally genteel.

"W-what? Wait, I'm not done!"

Alarmed, Pen took a step back as Paper hurriedly scrambled to take the vanguard, bracing herself against the figure who was slowly advancing towards them. In Jon's hand was a bread knife, ridiculously oversized for its purpose.

Rick was only sitting in the corner of the room, shoveling the contents of the bowl into his mouth. Despite the heated dialogue on the cusp of a violent, physical altercation, he seemed to be abnormally callous of the development.

*slurp!*

"We've been very generous all this while, letting you blabber and all, don't you think that's enough, though?"

"I said wait! Let me finish! Rick, he can testify. Hey, Ric-!"

Despite Pen's panic-induced scream, Rick seemed to be oblivious to his surroundings. As he was religiously rummaging his meal, the confrontation further deteriorated while his wit on the matter was completely out of commission.

"Seriously!? I was just getting into the meat of the matter!" Pen thought, his earlier plan of eloquently presenting his case to strike a deal now dashed.

Jon lunged at Paper with breakneck speed, intent on delivering the first, decisive blow. However, the petite figure deftly stepped to the side as the tip of the knife grazed her cheek. Paper then delivered a counter punch towards Jon's exposed elbow, her tiny fist wasn't any slower than his thrust.

An explicable sense of dread made Jon's spine turn cold. He knew if that swing landed, he'd have to pay a hefty price for it. Gritting his teeth, he twirled his weapon to do a backhand swipe, intent on breaking the momentum of the girl's punch. 'Too late!' Jon thought gravely.

However, to his surprise, the horrible sensation did not arrive, instead, he saw the figure of his attacker barrel across the hard floor, and unto a gallery of kitchen sundries, she crashed.

"Paper!"

"Thanks for the save, Sonia"

Pen scurried to his sister's body and examined her for wounds. There were no visible injuries per se, but her internal organs could have suffered grievously. Given how she was unable to guard against the blow, a bruise or bone fracture was to be expected.

"Ugh..I'm fine, bro," Paper moaned as she staggered to stand with Pen offering his timely brotherly aid.

In comparison, Jon and Sonia remained as cool as cucumber, loosening their stiff joints. Although, they now knew better than to underestimate the midgets, especially the girl who agilely evaded Jon's strike.

"That was dangerous, Jon. I experienced her grip firsthand, you know. If that punch landed squarely, you could kiss your dream of becoming a first-rate chef goodbye. Not that you'll reach far in life, anyway."

"That's why you'll never find a husband, Sonia. Not unless you fix that spiteful tongue of yours," Jon slammed her sister's words with one of his own.

"By the way, what's with the girl. I was just probing earlier, but to think she almost successful countered," Jon said as every muscle in his body were now taut.

"Yea, probably one of those? When a wild beast is cornered, it will unleash a burst of strength."

"I see, time to get serious, then."

As the siblings readied themselves for another bout, they heard Pen's shaky plea, "Won't you guys listen for a bit?!"

"That's the problem, twerp. Listening to you really grates on my nerves," Sonia said, irritated.

Jon's droopy eyelids then retracted fully, exposing a pair of vertical pupils, "It would be more desirable if we hammer some manners into you first, only then we can have a meaning discussion."

"Am I really that annoying to listen to?" Pen asked the closest person beside him, confused.

Paper only kept silent but the shrugging of her shoulders, accompanied by a heavy sigh which in and on of itself spoke volumes.

'R-really?' Pen asked himself as he was now fighting an internal battle. His mind was now abruptly thrown into a violent sea of self-reflection, deliberating about 'what ifs' and whatnot. 'if, if I had been more courteous, not beating around the bush, perhaps things could have turned a lot less sour..' or something like that.

As Pen's focus was momentarily derailed, Paper took the frontline once again as she tensed every nerve in her body. She felt unprecedently calm, tranquil if you may. A singular mission, one she cannot afford to fail - to safeguard his brother no matter the cost.

She surveyed the room for any weak links, and indeed she found one. A worn-out, planked wall, their- no, her brother's path of escape. If she could bust it open then there's a high possibility for Pen to flee. Her brother needed to sprint as if his life was on the line, though.

'I just need to buy enough time,' Paper resolved herself.

However, a familiar yet equally unexpected voice rocked the room, ending Paper's emotional upheaval. The man whom they thought chose to be an irresponsible bystander, intervened as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Hey, Jon!" Rick's husky voice sounded as he sought his son who now wore a bewildered expression, and outright demanded, "What absurd wizardry did you cast on this soup?"

"I believe I have the answer for that," Unexpectedly, Pen answered instead, his voice without the previous tremble.