// *wants to go there, but doesn’t know if you even like Hansencest. Plays it safe*
Hercules shook out his fist, frowning as the split of one knuckle began to trickle blood. He sneered down at the heap of humanity at his feet, manfully resisting the urge to kick the downed man in the ribs.
"…yeah, well…" Herc muttered, glancing to his right and taking in Chuck’s startled expression. He couldn’t blame the kid for being surprised. Just another reason why Herc was a shitty father, sometimes… "…he deserved it, didn’t he? Talkin’ bollocks about my son when I’m standing right here…”
Lifting his attention to the other men in the barroom, the Elder Hansen’s pale eyes were cutting as he pinned their gaping audience with his gaze. He didn’t have to raise his voice to make his point. “That goes fer th’rest of you galahs, too. Say a word against my kid, and I’ll job you hard enough t’make this look like a pat on the cheek.”
Turning towards the bartop, Hercules tossed down a few bills. Her jerked his chin towards the door, his jaw still tight, “…c’mon, Chuck. Let’s leave these rat bags t’their piss water.”