meanandgreen (
meanandgreen) wrote in
tushanshu_logs2013-01-12 11:33 pm
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Entry tags:
[Open] FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT
Characters: Raphael, Wolverine, and anyone looking to kick some ass to make a buck.
Date: Open for your convenience
Location: An abandoned warehouse in the Fire Sector
Situation: The illegal underground fighting ring. Fighters kick the crap out of each other, gamblers try to make some juulan, and the spectators do their thing.
Warnings/Rating: Rated for violence and language
Deep in the bowels of the Fire Sector, many of the local businesses closed down long ago. The streets are cracked and dirty, and riddled violence. It's become a playground for the destitute, for people who have learned to make a living off the darkness that has leeched its way into the neighborhood. Working girls flaunt exotic pleasures for half price, gangsters battle for their turf, and deals are dealt in dark alleyways.
Meanwhile, the warehouses of the once-lucrative factory district stand empty as tombs.
But every night the lanterns are lit in the old incinerator plant and fires are built in its massive kilns. The floor is swept and the people gather from all over Keeliai. Junkies and businessmen, gangbangers and drug dealers gather like moths to the light. The only entrance is guarded by a bulky and heavily tattooed kedan, stationed there to keep the cops out of their business and intimidate anyone who has no right to be there. The air is hazy with smoke and the place is full of shadows perfect for shady dealings.
Keeliai's underground fighting ring attracts people of all walks of life. The young punks, the old and streetwise, the bloodthirsty and the spectators. Gamblers place their bets with the bookie behind the desk, and the enormous chart on the wall tracks the bouts, where any fighters who sign up are drawn at random. The winning fighters themselves are paid with a cut of the earnings for their blood and pain.
The rules are simple. Fight 'til your opponent can take no more. Fighting dirty can only entertain the crowd and make people more likely to bet on you, so do your worst and make the nice people some money.
So, you think you got the juice? Feeling lucky, punk? You just might make a few juulan for your trouble. Or you might be lucky just to get out of there alive.
[Post made with permission from Sparky, who deserves all the credit for the idea. More information about the fighting ring and how it operates can be found here. Feel free to use the previously RNG set up bouts on that post or make up your own scenarios.]
Date: Open for your convenience
Location: An abandoned warehouse in the Fire Sector
Situation: The illegal underground fighting ring. Fighters kick the crap out of each other, gamblers try to make some juulan, and the spectators do their thing.
Warnings/Rating: Rated for violence and language
Deep in the bowels of the Fire Sector, many of the local businesses closed down long ago. The streets are cracked and dirty, and riddled violence. It's become a playground for the destitute, for people who have learned to make a living off the darkness that has leeched its way into the neighborhood. Working girls flaunt exotic pleasures for half price, gangsters battle for their turf, and deals are dealt in dark alleyways.
Meanwhile, the warehouses of the once-lucrative factory district stand empty as tombs.
But every night the lanterns are lit in the old incinerator plant and fires are built in its massive kilns. The floor is swept and the people gather from all over Keeliai. Junkies and businessmen, gangbangers and drug dealers gather like moths to the light. The only entrance is guarded by a bulky and heavily tattooed kedan, stationed there to keep the cops out of their business and intimidate anyone who has no right to be there. The air is hazy with smoke and the place is full of shadows perfect for shady dealings.
Keeliai's underground fighting ring attracts people of all walks of life. The young punks, the old and streetwise, the bloodthirsty and the spectators. Gamblers place their bets with the bookie behind the desk, and the enormous chart on the wall tracks the bouts, where any fighters who sign up are drawn at random. The winning fighters themselves are paid with a cut of the earnings for their blood and pain.
The rules are simple. Fight 'til your opponent can take no more. Fighting dirty can only entertain the crowd and make people more likely to bet on you, so do your worst and make the nice people some money.
So, you think you got the juice? Feeling lucky, punk? You just might make a few juulan for your trouble. Or you might be lucky just to get out of there alive.
[Post made with permission from Sparky, who deserves all the credit for the idea. More information about the fighting ring and how it operates can be found here. Feel free to use the previously RNG set up bouts on that post or make up your own scenarios.]
no subject
Now Raphael would be the first to admit he has the worst karma in all of history. No matter what, Turtle Luck always found a way to run true to form, and the recent string of events after he washed ashore on the shore of Tu Vishan did nothing to disprove that. But tonight. Tonight it seemed like his luck was finally going to change.
It was the sound of the savagely roaring crowd that drew him in toward the old abandoned warehouse. Peeking through a broken second story window, he was rewarded with a glimpse of what looked like an answer to his prayers: Two bloodied kedan beating the shit out of each other, a boisterous crowd gathered around them, calling out bets and egging them on.
It was a fighting ring. One of Raph's biggest dreams come true; the opportunity to fight and get paid for it. Sure, there was definitely something illegal going on about the place, but he really didn't care. This was a place he could blow off steam and it'd be a good thing. Might even earn him a little cash on the side.
In his world he'd never get a chance at something like this. Not when he was too busy worrying about getting strapped to someone's dissecting table. But here that was obviously not a risk. This was something he could do.
So he snuck in through the window, not bothering to try to get past the big guy out front. Once he was in he did his best to blend in, and he did. Just another freak among the freaks. The guy at the desk didn't even bat an eye when he put down his name.
Next thing he knew he was going two bouts with kedan fighters. He fought them without mercy, and neither of his opponents ever stood a chance. The kedan, he's come to discover, generally aren't the greatest fighters. But the crowd loves him, howling at his savage fighting style. They roar when he manages to drive his sai through the guy's shoulders and punch the crap out of him until the kedan playing ref manages to drag him away.
In between bouts he stands at the edge of the ring, watching the other fights with a feral smile. This is probably one of the best nights of his life.
When they call his name again, it's fight number three, and he's feeling cocky as hell. He just hopes the next guy's more of a challenge. "C'mon!" He challenges as he steps back into the ring with a flashy spin of his sai, waiting for them to call the second name. "Who wants a real fight?"
no subject
So joining the fighting circuit, while on a whim, had been one of the better decisions he had made while he had been here on the Turtle. The kedan that would bet on him loved him. The kedan who thought they stood a chance against him? Well, they were terribly mistaken.
The Wolverine was a fan favorite because he walked out of the ring unscathed and undefeated.
He's been put down for round three this night and they announce him as the Wolverine. He strolls into the ring and eyes Raph with the look of a man undaunted. He had seen the way Raph fights and was so far, wholly unimpressed. In a lot of ways, it feels like he's going to be fighting Victor. Hopefully, he'd dismiss the notion before the fight began.
He sheds his shirt and tosses it into his corner and doesn't bother stabbing out the cigar perched between his lips. Not yet anyway. "You sure you want this, kid?"
Not too late to walk away, after all.
no subject
It's enough for him to quit his showboating and get serious, sliding into a defensive stance,sai at the ready. As amped up as he is for another fight, the urge to jump right in and attack is a strong one. But he knows he's got to test the water, feel out what kind of challenge he really might have on his hands. But that probably won't last for long.
"You think I'm gonna back down, grampa?" The way he spins his sai is obviously meant to intimidate, metal grinding against metal as he settles back into stance. "Think again."
Raphael never runs away from a fight.
no subject
He took the time Raphael needed to spin his sai to stab the cigar out on the bottom of his boot. It was nothing but a stub anyway, so he flicked it into some forgotten corner.
Then he shrugged at Raphael's comment. If his feathers were ruffled, it certainly didn't show. "Suit yourself."
The referee had long since retreated, removing the only obstacle between Logan and his opponent. He studied the sai, but wasn't entirely worried. Whatever damage Raphael hoped to cause with it wasn't going to be permanent. Still, it would probably be a good idea to disarm him, before he was forced to use his own claws. So far there hadn't been a need to. He wanted to keep it that way.
Nobody needed to know what he really was. He closed the gap between them to meet Raphael in the middle of the ring. Then without warning, Logan swung his fist to strike him in the face.
no subject
The punch is predictable, and Raph easily ducks away from the blow, letting it miss the top of his head by inches. In one fluid movement, he sheathes his sai in his belt, twisting and exposing his shell to his opponent as he does so, and uses the momentum to launch into a spin-kick at Logan's stomach.
He's not the fastest thing in the world, but he can move pretty quick for a turtle, and there's a lot of force behind his attack. Whether or not it's enough to hurt The Wolverine is still up for debate.
no subject
Logan hadn't been expecting the spin-kick and the force drives him back more than it actually hurts. He recovers quickly from the blow and takes only a moment's hesitation to reevaluate how to proceed.
With his mind made up, he charges with a yell, fully intending to knock Raph over with his weight. Logan figures he's a turtle. If he can get Raph on his back, this fight is over.