Snips Snails And Puppy Dog Tails! [ OPEN ]

There was no shortage of shirtless men in this place. If he didn't know any better, it seemed like they were more interested in impressing each other than the opposite sex. Allen wasn't going to say anything though. While fit, he didn't have hulking muscles or a marine-crew cut. He had long, semi-shaggy hair. He wore a short sleeved, black shirt with "AC/DC" on it. And his jeans were loose, but didn't hang down past his ass. He didn't fit in here. Not in this dorm. But he wasn't here for them.

He walked down the hallway, reaching a door directly across the hall from an individual whose rap music blared through the walls as though they weren't there. Allen would knock, and wait. It opened after a moment, a young male rolling his eyes and walking out, giving the youngest Hollows and chance to get inside. There was a boy, laying in bed. He had broken ribs and a fractured jaw. Allen had helped him when a few boys where picking on him, and had come to make sure he was alright.

"I brought you some chips and meds. Might make things easier, having something good to eat."

The kid nodded his thanks. Allen would approach and clasp hands with him, opening his pack and removing the contents to set them on the table. Meanwhile, the male that left the room would pound on the door across the hall, hard.

"HEY! TURN THAT SHIT DOWN! SOME PEOPLE ARE TRYING TO RELAX!"

His short mohawk was painted green to match the eyes, which were clearly more than a little pissed at having someone who refused to give a flying fuck about everyone around them, and expected them to like it.

The kid with the mowhawk scowled and turned back into the bedroom, walking in and opening his closet. Allen would turn to look at him, slightly shouting over the music.

"Just let it go, man. Dude sounds like a dick."

Mohawk shook his head. He pulled a hammer out from the closet and walked back over to the door, whipping the hammer down by swinging his arm in a huge circle and bringing it down on the mans doorknob. The metal handle would bust easily, falling to the ground. Mohawk followed it up by kicking open the now useless barricade. He didn't stop moving on his way over to the mans stereo where he would bring the hammer down on it repeatedly until either the music stopped or he was forced to.

If Juelz did nothing, his radio would be busted to shit and Mohawk would turn to him and curtsy before walking out.

Allen turned as Mohawk was kicked, slamming into a wall and sliding down. He got to his feet quickly, moving into the hall and crouching by his friend, who was now holding his chest. He turned his eyes slowly up to Juelz and would stand, hands at his sides. He didn't like bullies- and judging from this kids words and actions, he liked to be in control. Allen would have to show him there were other ways to live.

"I do now."

He would spit in the kids face. Was that for a measure of disrespect? Maybe. Or maybe it was the casual distraction he would use to take away the mans sight for a split second while he through a short front kick to the inside of Juelz' right knee. Getting hit in such a fashion, with a targeted strike, was likely to be unexpected. The front kick also made it unlikely the kid would catch his leg- even if they were even in height, the inside front kick is kept low. But since this guy was taller than him by almost a foot, Allen knew his leg would be far too low for the male to catch even if he saw it coming. A dodge would be more likely if he did- but that was what the spit was for, right?

So. It seemed the boy wanted to talk. The kid didn't seem intimidated. His problem was, he thought he intimidated Allen. The short male was a kind heart. He didn't pick his fights unnecessarily. He would keep eye contact on Juelz' face, but let his peripherals focus on the mans center line, so if he decided to strike, he could retaliate effectively.

"Stupid? You must think you're really hot shit, huh? You don't even know me, or the kid you just kicked, but you already have a victory speech in your head. Lets get one thing straight- I'm not him. And you don't scare me."

He would stay where he was- Juelz was likely standing in the doorframe to his room, which made Allens offensive position difficult at this point.

"You could have grabbed him and pushed him back, rather than break his ribs and ask anyone else if they have a problem. Your a punk. And a bully. If you didn't want to fight you shouldn't have asked for one."

He'd give the boy a chance to respond, hoping for movement of some kind, where Allen wouldn't have to attack the kid in his doorway.

((Got it. No problemo ^_^))

Allen shook his head with a slight smirk. This guy...did he think his words impressed Allen? That he thought a turn of phrase would solve all problems? He'd have to set the boy straight.

"I think you're a punk because you crank up your music without giving a shit about who is around you. I think you're a punk because you tell someone to fuck off or you'll break his arm when he asks you to turn it down, albeit impolitely. I think you're a bully because you hurt someone weaker than you, when they didn't come at you with the weapon, just your damn music. Then you try and act like tough shit by asking if anyone else has problems, insinuating you wanna fight but then try and talk your way out of it like a coward....yeah, that's bully material too."

He would tilt his head to the side a little.

"And when it comes to bullies, I pick as many fights with them as I can. Because people who puff out their chest and think their strong by throwing blows...well, I like to remind them what it feels like to take a few."

And he wouldn't wait for a response, spitting in his face and snapping out the front kick for the inside of Juelz' knee as previously planned!

Mark was watching, commotion was irritating. He was trying to listen to his boy DMX However the brawls were starting again, must of been new people that didn't know who was king of the block. Mark would have rushed in, catching Juelz jab by the wrist, catching the spit mid air, and jutting his foot out to swat down Allen's kick from the top of his foot, wouldn't hurt, just sting.

Pulling his arm back that had caught the spit he would wipe it on his vest and look at the two. Letting go of Juelz wrist as well he would begin to speak.

"In case you haven't heard, I'm top dog."

He'd look to Juelz.

"Turn your music down or I'll end music for you."

He'd look to Allen.

"Get the guy to the hospital so he can get patched up.