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

ALSO: i do what i want

[kalt]

"You're the captain who isn't supposed to be in here." The resemblance to the poster is un-fucking-canny. Perhaps, based on her show for the evening, it might seem as though "the Princess of the Avvar" was here to make something of that. Her entirely languid approach, however, belies this.

"Did you come to keep an eye on things?" her smile is easy to take as insulting.

[katabasis]

Then it's a good thing he isn't easily insulted. Flint squints up at her, pausing briefly in the act of refilling his cup from the bottle. It's a very summary examination - short to the point that it may as well border on disregard. He tops off the cup and rights the bottle.

"I came here to have a drink."

[kalt]

"Exactly where you weren't wanted," she supplies, on his behalf. She toys the rim of her own drink, making it spin on its base. The liquor disinterested her, it was really only a mild distraction in the face of so much otherwise interesting stimulation. She also appreciates his general disinterest in her, it both pleases and nettles. That he's above gawking at her in wonder and maybe fear, but also she doesn't like to be ignored. It makes her burn hot under her skin.

"Are you going to fight?" Soft questions, still probing the edges of things.

[katabasis]

"I don't think so." This said over the rim of the cup, a half beat before he takes a drink from it. His attention has strayed past her to the bout, then slides back. "Will you be going again?"

He'd seen her last match. How could he not? She's a big woman - hard to miss the swings when they originate from over most people's heads.

[kalt]

She glances at the ring over her shoulder, cursory through a loose fall of dark hair. She observes the energy of the crowd, they still mostly seemed to be having fun. Which she finds a terrible shame.

"Maybe."

If she feels they need to be riled, if she feels they need to see some real blood, some real damage.

"It's fun enough."