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FIGHT CLUB II: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO.
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 Harvestmere.
WHERE: The back room of the Boar & Bat pub.
NOTES: Violence! Gambling! Anything worse than that, I'll let you know.
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 Harvestmere.
WHERE: The back room of the Boar & Bat pub.
NOTES: Violence! Gambling! Anything worse than that, I'll let you know.
First thing's first: the crowd favorites.
Feel free to do whatever you wish with your character and their reaction to being the month's favorite. Crowd favorites will be cheered more, possibly bought drinks, remembered and treated fondly by the crowd, even if they're heels. Bets on their success will be higher, and remember, you're allowed to bet on yourself.HEROES
(Obviously, if you didn't sign up beforehand but still want to have your character fight, feel free!)- CROWD FAVORITE: Sabine "Red Snatch"
- Skulltimaeus "Fistbreaker"
- Derrica "The Rivaini Raider"
- Laura "Sharps" Kint
- Athessa "Sweet Tessa" Sulanahn
HEELS- CROWD FAVORITE: Yngvi "Filth Demon" Congealedinagutterson
- Kostos "Babyface Moroney" Averesch
- Findilay
- Barrow "Skullbreaker"
- "Princess" Carla
As for the rest: The back room of the pub still has that dirt floor, the bar off to the side, the chairs and tables dirt floor, a bar with drinks and a bartender, and a circle drawn in the middle with chalk.
Eshal holds court at the edge of the circle, calling matches and announcing fighters. Gifted with a booming voice and a 6'2" stature, she's still impossible to miss.
The unspoken mascot of the festivities 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. This time, someone has also added pretty eyelashes to the face.
(credit to Beka for the wonderful sign!)
The rules of the fights are simple, and repeated before every match: No kicking. No hitting 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 looses.
Fighting isn't the only thing to do, however. There are bets being made in the crowd. Drinks being had. Mingle, cheer, loose some money, win some back, have fun!
carouse.
Her cup clanks to the bar beside Sabine. Derrica leans on the bar, luckily beneath the swing of Sabine's arms.
"I don't think I got hit as hard as you, but I still feel it."
In spite of her casual request, there's admiration in her voice. Sabine's fight had been impressive. Derrica had enjoyed watching it, and she thinks she'd learned something from it. The ice would be nice, but knowing this person would be better, as far as Derrica is concerned.
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Sabine pivots to engage with this next person, perhaps expecting it to be any of the spectators that have so far offered congratulations, but then grins broader when she recognises the woman who's materialised instead. There is redness blossoming near and around Sabine's eye, just detectable as eventual bruises in all the natural flush of her skin beneath her freckles.
"The Rivaini Raider," she says, laying on Orlesian affect as she enunciates the title. All those R's. "Merci, I think. Thick skulls are virtuous, where I come from." She raises her tankard to bump it to Derrica's.
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Derrica is also assuming Eshal came up with "Red Snatch" and declines to question it. She lifts her cup slightly after the bump in a small salute before climbing up to sit on the bar beside her.
"They really liked you," she points out, sweeping her cup out towards the crowd. "More than they liked the Fistbreaker last month."
Which is still quite a statement, even having seen that entire fight and knowing it wasn't a joke.
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But she looks out at the crowd, and crooked smile kind of evens out into something more glowing and genuine. "I have been thrown out of more taverns for brawling than I have been cheered in them, so."
A nice change.
"I am Sabine, usually."
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Not quite the same ring as "Red Snatch" but.
"Did you come here for the brawling, or for something else?"
Derrica seems to consider that it's a personal question only after she's said it. Her expression shifts slightly, abashed, but there's no graceful way to take it back.
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"For a man," she says, and is Kidding, judging by her skewed grin, but there is a little private amusement to be had. "They build them so attractive and proportionate out here. And what other way to best test their stamina," and she gestures out with her tankard to the rabble.
Which she then drinks from. "Also my hand was pierced with a piece of Fade energy some years back, so."
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"But it didn't slow you down at all tonight," Derrica follows up with, hastily. Not everyone appreciates condolences. It's all a bit much for a first meeting. "I'm a little envious. I hadn't seen some of those moves before."
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Unoffended by condolences, but deeply disinterested. It's nothing, don't even worry, though now Sabine absently flexes that specific wrapped hand, conscious of the growing splinter of fade magic hidden there. She snorts into her tankard -- still drinking -- as Derrica says that last thing. "Well," she says, once she has pulled herself out of her ale, "that is how it is done on the streets of Halamshiral."
There is faint irony in her tone, but it is semi-serious as well. "But I did have to refrain very much from the other ways it is done on the streets of Halamshiral. Kicking and hair pulling and that. Where did you learn?"