A new challenger appears! ( for Hali)

John was outside the male dorm in the parking lot, leaning over the grill of his satin black 1963 Ford Thunderbird. Setting a wrench on the engine block, he stood up, wearing only a pair of jeans held up by black leather belt and rodeo buckle, and his old beat-up steel toe combat boots, grabbed the black t-shirt hanging over the radiator, using it to wipe off his hands and face off. He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his left pocket and a simple brass Zippo lighter from his right and lit up, ignoring the grease and oil covering his tattooed body, looking around and enjoying the day.

A girl was taking a brisk pace through the parking lot of the male dorms. She cursed silently to herself, "How could I be so stupid? Late for my first interview?" Her thick boots, although not steel toed, thudded along the ground. Tight jeans clad her long, slender legs as she made her way to the main buildings on the Sex Wars campus. Her white tank top was covered by a green military jacket that hung open, with the name O'Connor on the sleeve and above the breast pocket. The rank insignia was that of a colonel in the Canadian military. Her bio didn't say anything about military service, just that she was a bounty hunter. Her fire red hair was tied back in a pony tail that swayed with each step. She had a folder with a piece of paper on it. Her eyes are fixed downwards on it, and didn't look up to see the man and the fancy car parked just a little onto the sidewalk...

John eyed the fire-haired girl as she walked closer, her attention focused on the paper in her hands. As he looked her over, he noted the Canadian military jacket and the rank on it, recognising her face and remembering a little of her bio from when he had looked through the roster. As he took a drag from his cigarette, he seemed to recall something about her being a bounty hunter before joining the AFW."Oi! O'Connor, watch where yer goin' 'for ye get yerself killed, lass!", his thick Irish accent more than noticeable in his warning, "Wouldn't want anything to happen to that pretty body of yours, now would we?"

Scarlet raised a perturbed eyebrowm "Yeah okay." She said, her eye finding the would be mechanic near the sidewalk. "Boy's dorm rules only apply if I'm -in- the boy's dorm." She said, continuing her brisk pace, her boots thudding hurriedly against the concrete. "But thanks." She replied, reluctant to say anything kind to him in her current mood, "I'll keep a closer eye on my path."

John smirked, flicking his near dead cigarette at Scarlet's boots, watching it explode in a shower of embers, "Aye lass, that much is true, the rules do only apply if yer inside, but the rules won't save ye if I decide to take this wrench here to your pretty little head, will they?", he replied, picking up the 1/2" socket wrench off the top of the engine, "As fer watchin' yer way, it'd be fer the best, someone is liable to hurt ye if ye run into somethin'," pausing to light another cigarette, "Their car fer instance."

She had a flat, unimpressed look on her face as she lowered the folder. "Half inch? Thats it? I hope you'd at least take a tire iron if you'd be coming after me." She sighed, "How about this, I'll walk around your car, and you don't bother me. Sound like a plan?" She raised an eyebrow, moving closer and would pass right by him in a couple steps. Her eyes concentrated on the man with the wrench, she was nervous, but it didn't show. Her emerald eyes were unwavering, and her stride was confident.

John grinned, staring back at Scarlet, sticking his foot out, hoping she wouldn't step over it, "If ye prefer lass, I could come after ye wit' the double-barrel in me trunk or the six shooter under the seat.", the Irishman replied coldly, "Or maybe I'll just powerbomb ye right here in the parking lot, what say ye to that, lassie?"

...

"Sounds like you're a real gentleman." Scarlet said snidely, not appreciating his attitude in the least. She reached his outstretched foot and lifted hers to step over, but rather than simply continue, she stomped down on his shin, near the knee joint before hoping up and past him. She turned around and paced down the sidewalk facing him, knowing that she shouldn't turn her back on someone she just kicked. "Guns are so callus." Scarlet continued to taunt, "You know I've always wondered why guys always want to use tools to beat on women? Perhaps because they can't do it otherwise?"

John winced briefly before standing, "That wasn't too kind, lass. Is that how ye treat all new-comers into your life?" He bent his knee experimentally, cracking loudly, he dropped the wrench, walking towards Scarlet, cracking his knuckles and balling and unballing his fists, he stopped almost face-to-face with her and grabbed her by the throat, lifting her off her feet, bringing her to eye level, "These be the only tools I be needin' fer dealin' wit' ye, lass."