[Open RP] Yer not from around here, are ya?

((OOC: This is an open RP, but I think it might work best with less than 5 other people ^^; Can be inkling, octoling, etc.))

Daggertooth District, a dangerous place for any inkling, young or old, to be walking around by themselves. Some might say this would be the slums of Inkopolis, a poor district, where most of them hoity-toity inklings don't dare venture. Most of them know what's good for 'em.....most of them, that is. Occasionally a foolish young morsel might enter this district, full of false confidence, and they would learn. Yessiree, they'd learn right quick. For these streets were full of bitter creatures, shunned by society and given scraps to scrape by on. They would take their revenge where they could. Very few Inklings could make the claim that they could walk through Daggertooth District without fear.

So it was a very unusual sight to see a tall, male inkling walking casually through shady alleys and hopping fences as though he knew the place like the back of his hand. He even stopped to chat with some of the haggard old beggars on corners, most of whom would mug a weak-hearted victim for all their money the instant their defense was down. Even some of the more vicious looking lurkers did nothing more than throw him a disdainful glance. Who was this inkling? That he could walk so comfortably through this district as though he were merely taking a stroll through a park? Sure, he was tall and muscular, and had the scars to prove he was no stranger to fights, but that wouldn't usually be enough to deter any kind of trouble. He even had the gall to be whistling as he strode around the block. He stopped abruptly however, as he heard what sounded like a brawl in the distance. This was nothing new, fights broke out all over all the time, but this inkling knew that there was always the chance that it might be an innocent, unsuspecting passerby that was the target of the force.

He made his way to the sound of the fight, and pushed his way forward through the crowd. When they recognized him, most of them moved out of his way. Someone in the back called out, "PARTY'S OVER BOYS! KILLJOY TORRENT'S 'ERE!" A ripple of unhappy sounds pulsed through the crowd, and some saw the opportunity to leave and took it while they could. Others stood around more stand offish-ly, hesitant to pick a fight, but refused to leave just because of one inkling. At the center of the crowd Torrent found the attraction, a couple of poor kids who had gotten snapped up by one of the infamous gangs in the area. They mostly seemed okay, with the exception of a few cuts and bruises. 

"Alright ye rotted fish heads, break it up! You've had yer fun, now flip off and go chew on each other instead of these little 'uns." Torrent snapped, helping one of the banged up bystanders to stand. 

"OR YE'LL WOT MATE?" Came a cry.

"Or I'll show ye snail-brains why yer boss 'as that lovely scar on his fin." Torrent growled, facing the crowd and cracking his knuckles. A angry muttering came from the remaining onlookers, but no one stepped forward to challenge Torrent. As he thought, this crowd was only looking for an outlet for their frustrations, and not a full on fight. Especially not a full on fight from Torrent. The last of the crowd left, shooting glares and muttering under their breaths, but at least they were gone. Torrent finally turned around to face the people he'd saved from the mob.

"Yer not from around here, are ya? Thems what roughed ya up are a part of Vic's gang. Ain't too fond 'a outsiders, but they're all bark and not much bite. Don't ye worry, they wont mess with ye while I'm around. So, wot are yer names?" Torrent asked, shoving his hands in his pockets.