Ares, straightening his uniform after having proven to Kirk's men that they are just a bunch of mother-loving spineless weekend soldiers with no cojones, decided, in a semi-drunken haze decided to 'fix' the music as yet another fight broke out.
He shrugged (slightly bored with the fighting) as bottles flew by, someone with a Bretonian accent, probably one of Bigeard's boys, shouting about 'noodle-munching tunes!' as the glass smashed near Gabriel's head.
One would think that altering the music would calm the atmosphere, but, of course, it got more aggressive. Mao deserved it, the little prick. Him and his flashy poncy songs needed showing a proper Coalition party.
Glass smashed around the poor Libertonian bastard, yelling from the Bretonian marine corps contingent getting louder, in an attempt to be heard over the music. Predictably, it all went downhill from there as a former Blood Dragon, fed up with their old feudal ways, took offence to the semi-good natured taunting, drunkenly headbutting a marine and being thrown over the bar in return, obliterating two of the optics behind the bartender.
The bartender wasn't amused. Brawls weren't to cross a certain line. It's all a bit of fun until the booze is getting wasted, after all. He retrieved his shotgun from under the bar and pointed it threateningly.
To those new to Kalashnikov's, this would be frightening, if the fighting had bothered to stop (there now appearing to be two teams, roughly based on ethnicity). Interestingly enough, though, nobody that wasn't taking a rest and politely purchasing a drink was within ten feet of the bar.