Circling The Ring

Posts : 284 Join date : 2012-05-29 Age : 26

There wasn't a mundane word for it. There wasn't in a physiological term for it. The 'it' in question was what happens, when a former hulking beast, capable of various feats of strength, predation, speed and overall terror- is translated into the appearance of a entity who had hunted him across the face of -what had been then- the earth. Knowing only what he had traversed, South proceeded to avoid the man. That man whose face he now wore like a new jacket. It was a strange sort of irony, that he had now killed the man, taken on his appearance before hand, and had overall replaced him in the food chain. While he was by no means the bestial thing he had been before hand, it was only a aesthetic alteration. His mind had remained the same, his thought processes, his identity.
Yawning idly, the male considered his current environment. Posters of a dubious nature littered the walls, detailing explicit scenes, of gory confrontations. Interestingly enough, there was gore covering the posters themselves, splatters of blood, dried out portions of what suspiciously appeared to be grey matter. Considering a alternate reality spawned from his imagination, a envisioned scene where his own skull was cracked upon that wall, his organ that was dedicated to the processing of information that his varied senses picked up. Scent, a coppery odour permeated the environment, a testimonial to the previous activities that had been carried out in this Underground Black Market. In particular the art of Cage Fighting, where fleeing was an option removed from your options.
Allowing himself a moment to gather his thoughts and super-ego, ID and internal critic, South proceeded to walk over to the woman/man (he couldn't tell) who appeared to be operating one of the rings of steel. The conversation with (s)he seemed to go cordially enough. It didn't seem to be one of verbalisation, as by the looks of a bandage wrapped around his/her throat, (s)he was mute.
So it went something along the lines of South gesturing towards one of the rings, she rubbing her thumb against the closest digit in the universal sign of money, before extended four fingers followed by a cupping of the aforementioned digits against the thumb. Forty Dollars.
Nodding to her, South pulled out a strangely feminine pouch (stolen probably) and handed over the required currency, which was unfortunately was ten dollars over. The person who had originally owned the funds didn't seem to have twenty dollars on her. Fifty was handed over, and none came back.
Placing the money within a pouch that had been hidden within a place no one would put a hand unless they wanted to be accused of pansexuality.
Replacing the pouch, she then hit a small button on a panel nearby, the whole ring lit up as she made a gesture for South to move onto the floor. Mounting a few steps, the pale blond entered the designated area of violence, a section of space where he would pit the might of his existence against someone else's. Pacing the floor in a back and forth fashion, South waited for someone to accept the invitation that the flashing lights displayed.

Posts : 521 Join date : 2012-06-26

A masked woman walked the streets towards the infamous underground ring. Perhaps she was going to participate? Ha, that was a laugh. Literally. A white van pulled up beside her, and in a quick moment a heel came out of the side of the van, nailing the woman directly in the temple. It knocked her so hard, she was pushed back into the wall, and hit the ground with a strong thud. Giggles escaped the darkness of the van, as a pale hand reached out to grab the door. Pulling slowly, a woman with a white paint face would reveal herself from the darkness with a wide smile on her face. Beside her would be another pale face with a similar smile on their face. This one belonged to a younger girl who had both hands beneath her chin to prop up her head on the floor of the van. "Can we kill her? Pretty pleeeeaaase?" Jesteria, the older clown with the maniacal smile on her face, would hop out the van and wag a finger to the girl. "Oh miss Mary Andrew, you have alot to learn. A roll of the diiice! First we take what we want, theeeen we kill them! HAHAHAH!" Her laugh was spine tingling, as she grasped the masked woman by the shirt and forcefully pulled her into the darkness of the van. Closing the door, the sound of laughing would overcome the night, as the van sped off into an alley way.

Several minutes later, the van parked in the alley way would have the engine off. The door would open, and a masked woman would step out of the darkness. She wore a red corset with blue tights down from the waist to the ankles. On her feet were two red boots to match the theme. Her skin? It was painted completely white, like a clown would have. Behind her, the small Merry Andrew would land with a soft hop, and sway her body back and forth with a large smile. She was currently holding all of the clown's weaponry, including the blade and belt. "This if fun! This is fun!" She seemed jittery. Maybe because this was her first mission. The masked woman would only give a wide grin to the girl before turning back to the van. Soon, four larger goons would make their presence known. "You fools know the plan, so lets keep it simple and fast. By the end of the night, this place should be up in flames. Hehe.." The Masked Jester laughed under her breath before jogging out of the alley. The little Merry Andrew and the rest of the goons would begin to grab various gasoline cannisters from the back of the van. Moving over to a manhole, they'd use a crowbar to unhinge it before tossing the gasoline down, and following down soon behind. The sewer line led directly beneath the arena where the fighters fought. The Clown Mistress of Chaos had more plans than just fighting.

Making her way to the interest, the Masked Jester would walk up to the front desk. The woman, or man..or whatever the hell the thing was behind the counter would rub their fingers together. Apparently they wanted some kind of payment or tip? Jesteria would reach into her corset like she was going to grab something, but would suddenly lean forward and send a punch directly into the 'things' face, sending her back and knocking her out with one clean blow. Busting out laughing, the Jester would hold her stomach with a large maniacal smile/ "TALK ABOUT A PUNCH LINE! HAHAHAHA!" Wiping the tears from her eyes, the psychotic clown would follow the lights and head towards the arena. Switching her hips, she'd walk into the arena where the strange looking...Man...? Awaited her. Placing her hands on her hips, and keeping the red and blue mask on her head, the only thing that would actual be visible on her head would be the two pigtails sticking out from the holes she cut into the headgear. Putting her hands on her hips and standing about 10 meters from the man...? Jesteria would raise a brow and give a wide smile. "Weeeeellll....Hello there! So are you a man or woman? Is this a part of the game? Guessing?! Ohohoh! I've never seen such a thing, is it okay if we take pictures? First picture could be you and me. Oh oh, then the second, you and the cage. Then the third could be me with a cage and a lock of your hair...Then maybe..." The woman placed a finger on her chin and tilted her head with a smile. "Enough talk huh? Let's wrastle!"

Posts : 284 Join date : 2012-05-29 Age : 26

South frowned as he saw the person operating his ring get sucker punched in one, simple easy motion. If there was one thing he was now regretful about, it was not thinking Alexadrian enough about that particular solution. Just approach it like the great conquer himself had approached the knot. Something to be chopped open, and then reap the benefits. He frowned at the comparison, the eventual path it took him on would lead him to being the land in which the aforementioned figure of history would claim ownership of. Well, perhaps this was why they said that History didn't repeat, but it did rhyme.
Yawning to himself, South allowed the woman her pre-game banter, let her psyche herself up, if nothing else, it would make the activity all the more interesting. It was a double edged sword, you boosted your morale, but somewhere along the line you lost that sharp edge that was required to make rational decision in the midst of combat. Too see through the haze of primal emotion, and prevent yourself from being baited. Shrugging his shoulders a few times, South shrugged off the jacket he had been wearing along with his shirt. Tying each around on of his forearms for protection, he primarily attached them on by sliding his arms through both of the extensions of the fabric, then tying the remain portions around each arm. This was done quickly and efficiently, and by the time she had finished her small pronouncement, South's arms had some sub-standard protection, enough to allow them to function a little better then they would without hopefully. While his opponent did sound a little like a baby on sugar high, he ignored it, thinking back to that punch that had King Hit that accountant. Chances were, she had plenty of power within his small frame. Luckily enough, South had a longer reach then her by a little, as she was by no means terribly small, but that didn't equate to the body of a former shield agent, whose arms were most definitely slightly longer then her own.
Shuffling his feet in a manner reminiscent of a boxer, South took a few sway steps, to the left and right of his former position, moving his way towards his gradually, both arms, up, not in the traditional guarding posture, but his right resting on his hip, or close to it, his left was stretched across his body, offence and defence. He'd let her initiate combat.

Posts : 521 Join date : 2012-06-26

prestiging.

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