[X] You are beyond yelling. Beyond crude expressions. The flames your anger have solidified into plasma.
-[X] Move over to them, put on a smile (doesn't matter what the rest of your face looks like, just make sure that you're smiling), look him dead in the eye, and ask him what exactly he plans to do with your precious and adorable and fifteen year old daughter.
-[X] Memorize his car so you can nuke it anyway.
-[X] Apologize to Grace for spoiling your date.
Event Dice Roll - 1d100=72
Someone Else's Roll - 1d100=66

You grit your teeth and slowly counted to ten, but it didn't help... you burned hot inside. This was something that you had long ago acknowledged. You had a temper and worse, a power that fed into it and was fed by it far too easily.

You sigh out and closed you eyes before opening your eyes and followed the other car and its loud thumping bass. It took all of your willpower to avoid incinerating everyone and everything around you.

A sensible decision after all, Grace and Taylor were in close proximity and you certainly did not want to harm them.

"I'm sorry for ruining this date," You eventually said to Grace. "But it looks like I'll need to deal with some personal matters."

She smiled and shook her head. "In life, a little bit of rain is fine. I won't die from you having to deal with your wayward daughter."

Thankfully, it appeared that she was understanding.

As you step out of your car at a stop light to tap on the window, the intersection was deserted, your daughter, the little punk that she was doing things that you did NOT approve of, and the driver noticed you.

You were beyond anger. No, really you were. You were far beyond the hot white rage that you were familiar with. This was plasma to the normal flames of your normal anger.

You smile as you looked at the punk who DARED put his filthy grubby little hands on your precious daughter, who also had her hands on VERY INAPPROPRIATE PLACES on his body.

Before you can say a thing, you notice the driver look at you before looking in the rough direction of the backseat while keeping an eye on you. "Boss, want me to rough up the old man?"

The way he spoke, that slight twitch in his hands and flexing of muscles in his forearms that moved upwards. You were fairly certain that under his shirt that his muscles were flexing in preparation. You had seen similar muscle behavior before, it wasn't normal but it wasn't exactly,,, rare.

This was a Brute, with a capital B.

You would need to hit hard and fast if you wanted to maintain the upper hand, or at least shift to your 'combat form' to avoid being injured physically.

"Dad!" The glare from Taylor really was unwarranted.

"Boss?" "Taylor?" The way the two punks were looking at your daughter was odd and not quite what you expected. If you didn't know any better... you could swear that she was their boss. Which wasn't impossible... it just raised unfortunate questions.

"You really do take after your mother and me, don't you?" your words were soft and likely not heard by anyone else... but it was true, you had been running around with a gang in your youth and had taken over in due time. Annette had been an activist, which really meant that in those days she was an idealist dreamer who had joined a gang of fellow idealist who were willing to go pretty far for their ideals and dreams.