How does one cope with learning that your entire life was a lie? Why by not coping with it of course. And not coping with it was exactly what the Scot named Maon Kincaid...excuse me, Emilian Maon DeRazia-Morel, Romani gypsy, was doing. And how exactly does a Scot, no wait, an Irish Gypsy who thought he was a Scot, not cope with such a revelation? He breaks things of course, and right this second the dark haired man was breaking a chair over some poor drunk's head. The impact rattled Maon's bones and he growled as he tossed the broken pieces of the bar chair to the floor and shook his arms, grimacing as the sting remained in his muscles. He didn't have time to dwell on that as a moment before it was supposed to connect, Maon's sharp green eyes caught sight of the meaty fist that was headed right for his (thus far) unbroken nose. He reflexively bent his body to the left causing the blow to hit him in the shoulder, the punch had enough strength behind it that ...
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