"The hell?" Raice stumbles back as he's shoved away from Merelli, and the others get a move-on.  His eyes wandering to the back of the room, he examines the mess and snatches up the clothes.  Maybe this asshole was carrying some cigarettes, a habit he'd given up after a few months in his teen years.  Suddenly he felt like one again, now that the stress was fading, and opened the pockets up...<br/><br/>***<br/><br/>"Not fair..." Arget bristles as the only material possession he'd managed to keep from his youth vanished.  It had served him well, but now he was bitter.  As the guard stepped around post-throw, arget's eyes widened, and he steped in, his left knee making a popping noise with his dart, and one fist jets out to deflect a firearm, the other to meet an adam's apple.  "YOU C***!" He scream hatefully, taking a bite out of the guards face even as he grips his throat with shaking hands.  "WHEN I WANT YOU DIE, FUCKING DIE!" He crushes the larynx with his thumbs, feeling a blood vessel burst in his eye.  Then, with only the strength from years of the streets and from unparalleled frustration, he hurls the guard over his back and in Mag's direction.