ragin_canuck (ragin_canuck) wrote in parabolical, @ 2008-09-03 11:03:00 |
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Entry tags: | faith lehane, open, wolverine |
Who: Logan and open.
What: Lookin for a fight.
Where: Wandering around.
When: around 10pm
Rating: TBD
Status: Open
He needed some time out in the city, but not shopping or the usual drinking or strip club. No, Logan needed something slightly more aggressive and gratifying. So at nightfall he left his place in Chinatown and went in search of what Logan did best. A fight. First things first, he went to a few of the seedier bars in town and talked to the bartenders. After a few drinks and some camaraderie they told him what they knew.
And that was what led him to a building on the outskirts that had been condemned by a fire a few years back. There were no cars around, hell the place looked dead as hell. But that was to the untrained eye and senses. The scent of blood hit him, old and fresh. He could hear the telltale sounds of punches, fists hitting flesh, grunts of pain, oh and that sounded like a rib being cracked. Ouch. This was definitely the place.
Logan walked over, no doorman, but why would there be if they wanted to maintain a low profile? The inside looked to be burnt to hell, the smell of ash and smoke still lingered in the air. The closer he got the more he could hear the yells and hoots echoing in the air, bouncing off the walls. A body hit the ground, still alive, but that guy was gonna be in pain for the next few days at minimum.
Standing back he waited for the crowd to part, one half cheering when the fight was over. The other half less than thrilled. The guy in the center of the ring now wasn't harmed, he must the be guy running the show. He held the other guys hand up and then passed him a wad of cash, no doubt he kept a bigger cut for himself.
Logan caught other scents in the air and raised a brow. If these guys only knew some of the company they kept in this room. He could smell lycans and vampires. Not fair at the least. But then again, neither was Logan. But he'd call someone out that deserved the beating, that could handle it. At least to start. The leaders eyes locked on Logan's as the crowd parted and the injured man was drug off.
"Looks like we got a new contender here fellas."
Logan smirked and walked towards the makeshift ring, stepping inside. Getting closer now, beneath the sweat and blood I caught the scent of the guy that just won. He was in no condition to fight, no matter the facade he was laying on. "Well, the way we run things around here is you have to fight if ya wanna stay."
"Got no problem with that, s'what I'm here for." Logan shed the flannel and walked into the ring wearing his beater and jeans. The leader nodded his head and a big guy, weighing at least 275, all muscle walked into the ring. "No cheap shots or low blows. Wanna see real fighting."
Logan nodded and looked at the guy from head to toe. Big, probably not so fast. His stance was less than perfect. Next thing he knew there was a fist coming for his left side. Logan dodged it and watched the guy, the way he moved. Had to make it look believable, take a few shots at the very least. The next right cross Logan didn't avoid he took it and the force of it did reel him back a bit. The guy was a fucking Mack truck and hit like one too.
This was just what Logan needed. But before he had the chance to recover from it the guy was on him, pounding blow after blow into his sides and lower back. He gritted his teeth as he felt that blow right to his kidneys. This guy knew what the hell he was doing. Which meant Logan was done taking chances. When the guy pulled back for another blow Logan brought his fist up and jabbed it into his side. When the guy faltered Logan was up and headbutted him. The guy was seeing stars, Logan felt a ringing in his own skull.
As his opponent tried to recover, shaking his head to clear it Logan was on him. His military expertise as well as some of his samurai training was showing through, with every movement he made. Blow after blow made contact. Everyone was obviously surprised that the new guy was beating this guy. Musta been their ringer.
Adrenaline pumping Logan had to fight with himself to keep his mind in check. Every move was calculated and delivered with precision. Until finally the guy fell to the floor and didn't get back up. Logan kept stance over him and when a long few seconds ticked by the fight was over. The leader came in, grabbed Logan's hand and hoisted it into the air. "I don't know who the hell you are, but I expect to see you here again." As he handed him the money he put a card in his hand as well and walked away.
Someone handed Logan his flannel shirt as he started back through the crowd. The bruises and injuries he'd sustained would be gone within the next hour. He needed to make himself scarce. Moving through the crowd he headed for the front door. From what he could tell there was at last five grand in his hand. That meant one thing, these guys were heavy hitters just looking for something a little more entertaining than what they had to offer around this town. Made things all the more interesting.