OH SHIT IT'S NOT PORN!!!!!
this is a litmus test to see if I should migrate here instead of Deviantart. Deviantart has, shall I put it, terrible policies and it's just dying. So your views, favorites, and comments will tell me whether you want more than porn here or not.

Was watching John Wick.
I'm not the biggest fan of that movie but...goddan, that club scene. I didn't want to trace it, so I did my best to capture the spirit of that scene.
And that music
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fLelk26BlEM

Anyhow I have a custom of putting an unscripted story in this description so, ahem...

Virgil walked out from the club's sub-basement and into the dance floor. The cheeky Loose Bolt had managed to get a hit in. He could feel the throbbing of his eye, but in his focus on his target, almost failed to notice his sunglasses had been broken, keeping his unblinking gaze trained on his target, their useless disabled gun arm still pointed at him. The fistfight downstairs had left the cyborg's enhancements mostly disabled. It was the fatal flaw of superhumans and cyborgs. They often neglected training in favour of over-reliance on their abilities or weapons.

Virgil Sinclaire was an agent of Metro Order. All of those agents had been broken long ago by brutal training. He had been a vampire, and been given a drug that suppressed his abilities. He fought cyborgs, vampires, and superhumans as a human, learning to think like a human.

The Loose Bolt ran, grabbing a hostage and holding claws to her throat. Virgil simply removed his sunglasses and walked forward with a deliberate cautious slowness. He tilted his head at the cyborg and reached for his own pistol. He simply raised his pistol.
"Let's talk." he said simply, looking down the sights of his Colt .45 Peacemaker. A keepsake from a past darker than his current life.
"Fuck you! Let me go, the girl lives!" the cyborg gurgled. Virgil had disabled his digital voice box. The cyborg had no vocal cords, as most of their throat had been removed. He trained his sights on the exposed eyeball. It was a hard target. At 4 yards, he could hit a pea with a handgun. But the cyborg kept moving, his hostage struggling and making movements unpredictable and hard to track. He bared his fangs with frustration.
"Release the hostage and we can make a deal!" he lied. The cyborg looked to the side desperately. He knew his gun arm wouldn't work. He released the hostage. Virgil blinked, astounded that his lie had worked. Then he pulled the trigger. A shower of metal, sparks, brain and bone exploded out the back of the cyborg's head. His head jerked forward towards Virgil and he fell face first on the floor, exposing the blown out back of his skull to the screaming occupants of the nightclub. As they vacated, he pulled out his data link and placed a call to Metro Order's headquarters.
"Send out droids and sanitation from the Body Farm. We have another body for recycling." he said darkly, adjusting his collar and holstering his gun, clearing his throat and smoothing out the wrinkles in his suit before stepping over the body.