THE FIRST RULE ABOUT FIGHT CLUB IS THAT THIS ISN'T FIGHT CLUB

[saam]

WHO:Eshal and EVERYBODY, you're all invited. You don't have to have expressed interest oocly or icly before now to participate!
WHAT: The first inaugural Riftwatch underground boxing tournament... thing.
WHEN: Feel free to hit this up whenever, presumably it's taking place at various times over the month.
WHERE: The back room of the Boar & Bat pub.
NOTES: Violence! Gambling! Anything worse than that, I'll let you know.

The back room of the pub is no special beauty, but it's workable. A dirt floor, a bar with drinks and a bartender, and a circle drawn in the middle with chalk. Eshal is on the side, acting as referee for matches, and moving through the crowd in between bouts. She's convivial, crassly cheerful, and, at 6'2", impossible to miss.

But perhaps most notable is the sign stolen from the front, and pinned to the wall, in clear view of the crowd. Beneath it, someone has scrawled into the wall: LEAVE SOBER.

(credit to Beka for the wonderful sign!)

THE MATCHES

It's time to fight! The rules are simple, as outlined by Eshal and her booming voice at the beginning of every match:

No kicking. No punching below the belt. No hitting while they're down. Stop when the referee says so. First person who can't get back up after a five count loses.

She also introduces each participant to the crowd. She gives their name (or whatever name they gave her, if you want to go under a pseudonym), and a fact about them, perhaps ...a little made up. Nothing terrible, but always something to spice up the match. Are you fighting an elf? She may imply you have something against elves. Are you rich? She may imply your opponent has a grudge against Hightown. Little things.

(Feel free to godmod what she says as needed for comedy or plotting, but keep in mind it wouldn't be outright derogatory or obviously insulting. Just some slight implication to spice things up.)

THE BETTING

Are you a bookie? Are you making bets? Time to make some money.

Feel free to handwave who's fighting or who's the crowd favorite, what the odds are, etc. Don't get too bogged down in the details. Just remember: People love betting, and bookies get a cut. It pays to know the odds.

For those betting? Sometimes you win big. Sometimes you lose. Try and be polite about it.

THE SPECTATING

It's time to just sit back and watch the fight. Boo or cheer. Who's your favorite? Your least favorite?

Or maybe you're here for another reason. Gossip, making connections, pick-pocketing... Plenty of people here, plenty of connections to make... or you could just get drunk.

IN GENERAL

Hey, just have fun. In the future, there might be signups or more complex structures for the fights, but for now, let's just be chill and punch each other senseless.

Top level and comment around, fight whoever you want or handwave; there are presumably NPCs fighting and betting, make them up as needed for your threads. Please note if you're okay with threadjacking and etc.

Let me know if you need Eshal to step in as a referee (PM, whatever)! And note: She will not be fighting, just making herself very visible as the ref.

Comments

eshal fazon | ota | threadjack away.

[saam]

a. BEFORE THE FIGHT.

She's getting ready for the next bout. You're here to fight. She needs to get shit in order. Leaning over, she's all grins, sharply friendly.

"Gimme your name," she says, "and some shit about you. Y'know, where you're from, your job, something. People need a reason to cheer."

She gestures to the crowd. They're waiting.

b. DURING THE FIGHT.

Somebody done goofed. How did you break the rules in the ring? Below the belt? Kicked? Doesn't matter. Soon you'll find someone's sizable strength grabbing you and yanking you back.

"That's not in the fucking rules."

c. BETWEEN FIGHTS.

You have to have breaks between matches, so people can buy drinks and make bets.

You can find her at the bar, downing something that probably isn't rotgut. "Double my bet on the Nevarran." She says, grinning. She turns to whoever's next to her at the bar; they happen to be you. "What do you think?"

d. WILDCARD

[go for it, dude.]

c.

[justashotaway]

"Which Nevarran?" she asks, frowning as she glances up from where she has been examining the woodgrain of the bar. (She did not come here with coin, having failed to consider whether she would be thirsty, and she is loathe to go back to the Gallows now.) As far as she can tell, there are several to choose from in attendance.

[saam]

Eshal props her chin on her palm and winks. Which Nevarran, in-fucking-deed.

"Which one's your favorite?"

[justashotaway]

That is an easy question. "Me."

[saam]

Just the answer Eshal was hoping for. She beams. "Then show 'em. You're young. Nobody's gonna expect you tonight. If you kick ass, everybody gonna expect you next time."

She leans in a little. "You're allowed to bet on yourself."

[justashotaway]

Her brows draw together. The possibility of betting had not occurred to her--for that, she might've brought a bit of gold. "No. I did not bring money."

[saam]

Eshal shrugs. Poor fucking kid. She takes some coins out of her pocket and slides them over. "There. You gotta have fun with it. No point otherwise."

a

[kalt]

She tilts her head and smiles darkly. Oh yes, it might be about time to tell this wretched, mouthy Qun-translator her name, and a few tidbits about herself.

"Karoliina," the name has the ring of properness to it that doesn't suit Carla at all. "But you can tell them it's 'Princess', if you insist."

Would the crowd like the pet name, like jeering at it, or laughing at how it also did not quite suite the Avvar woman shedding her outer layers of leather armor and fur to get into the ring and sneer at the lowlanders.

"From the cursed hold, where we keep lowlanders as pets and make trinkets from their bones, when we've finished with their flesh."

Wow, sounds fake.

[saam]

A grin. Eshal can craft a story from that. "Avaar Princess. Sounds fucking nice."

The rest of the story is perfect. Who cares if it's true. It's a story. It's a canto. It's what works.

"In this corner..." she murmurs to herself. "The Princess of the Avaar. She keeps lowlanders as pets... will her opponent end the night in her cage?"

She quirks a brow, looking at this Karoliina. How's that sound, huh?

[kalt]

She can genuinely only hope there are other Avvar about to take offense to this one being declared their 'princess'. There were many better candidates for that role than Karoliina O Nidhold. Still, her smile widens at Eshal's easy acceptance of her mythos.

"They'll be indignant with it," and she's delighted by that. Clearly loves nothing more than ruffling some feathers. She turns her head to consider the crowd. She's wondering what it would take to get them to riot. "Any word on town favorites?"

She'd like to know which ones she needs to be cruelest to.

[saam]

"It's the first night," Eshal gives a shrug. "No clue. But if you wanna play the villain... well, you got your work cut out for you."

She eyes the ring, and the crowd, slowly growing more hungry for the fight about to happen.

[kalt]

"I'm an easy villain. An arrogant outsider here to mock their norms and their ways."

There is what she does on purpose and what is simply the truth, whether she mocked them or not, there were those predisposed to rankle. Where arrogance became confidence isn't a question that interests her overmuch either. She was master of herself, and that troubled those used to mastery.

"I can do it, for a few nights," before she would start to become bored with the play-acting.

[saam]

Eshal shrugs. "Every little bit helps. Don't wanna play it too much, right. People can get nasty... if you keep winning."

Sounds like a challenge. Impress her, Karoliina.

c.

[sulahnan]

At the moment that she's about to answer, the crowd roars, making it practically a necessity (don't argue) for Athessa to lean closer just to be heard. Luckily, from her perch on the bar itself, the height difference isn't an issue.

"Rather see you in action." Purposefully vague. Yes, she'd rather see Eshal in the right, beating the snot out of whoever goes against her, but action covers all manner of sin.

[saam]

Back to this game, then? Eshal's grin is easy, even in the dingy half-light. "Don't for sport. But I do like special requests."

[sulahnan]

It's always this game with Athessa. In part because it's fun, and because it gives the other person an easy out, but also because it saves her having to deal with outright rejection. Hey, wanna fuck? can be answered with No and sometimes, that's enough to hurt for a week. Not the good kind of hurt, either.

"There isn't a form to fill out for a special request, is there? My handwriting is awful."

[saam]

"No, never." She can't read Trade, anyway. But she can do this... "I heard you lot all went to some kind of fancy party. I didn't. Makes my skin itch. But from what I heard..."

She leans in.

"Think I owe you this."

And then, a kiss, slow and steady and tasting of cheap alcohol.

[sulahnan]

Cheap alcohol always tastes better with a kiss as its vessel, and it's always better than the bitter tang of wine. Athessa smiles into the kiss and hooks an arm around Eshal's neck to pull her closer--which doesn't really work at all. It actually works just the opposite, Athessa pulling herself closer to the larger woman, damn well near falling off of the bar because she was already perched right on the edge.

[saam]

Eshal laughs into the kiss, catching Athessa and folding her onto Eshal's lap to resume the kiss. "Better?" she purrs.

a

[thereneverwas]

"Barrow," comes the answer, with an appropriately cheeky smirk, "I'm a scoundrel who shouts at babies and robs widows." The less actually known about him, perhaps the better; either way, he's more than happy to be the Heel in anyone's hero story.

[saam]

Eshal laughs viciously.

"What's with everybody wanting to be the villain, huh?

[thereneverwas]

"It's less disappointing to lose," Barrow says with a shrug, "not that I'll lose, of course." He cracks his knuckles with a wink, and though he's probably joking, there's always a chance he isn't.

[saam]

"Oh, of course not, Messire Barrow." She gives him a gratuitous bow. "Try and look smug and superior, I can do something with that. All the other villains are ruffians."

[thereneverwas]

"I'll do my best."
He's about to walk away, but thinks better of it, and turns back. "....though now that you mention it, perhaps a different name."

A pause as he considers.

"Like. ...um." He's no good on the fly with things like these.

[saam]

Eshal is. "The Skull-Breaker. No one knows his real name."