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Dividing the Odds

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Dividing the Odds

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Lantis on Fri Aug 18, 2006 4:28 pm

OOC: Random RP that I was asked to post. As far as setting.. because I'm the one pasting I get to decide? XD Well I do now. Anyway set in 21st centuary Japan, mostly human characters but I think we're allowing some with supernatural powers as well. Basic storyline would be a fairly business/mafia setting so far infiltrating a gym. Damn my computer hates the darkness of this forum. x.x Anyway posts so far. Also we're looking for someone to RP the 'fighter' that everyone is going on about.

::Dante_Piranesi:: -= Dante snapped his foot upon the ground, clicking the heels of his fine italian shoes upon the pavement as he approached the gym. His frame was massive: about six foot ten, muscles widening his chest to the point of a wine barrel. However, this frame would be hidden by custom made Versace suit, presenting only the feeling of enormity as he reached for the door with his gloved hand. He gently pushed it open, his grace betraying his size - as he was indelibly deft in his movements. He habitually tucked his head a bit as he passed through the door, though it was not quite necessary. He reached back, closing the door behind him, and paused for a moment. He reached up with his opposite hand towards his face, withdrawing the dark glasses that had rest upon the bridge of his nose. His dark and weathered face looked up into the gym, noting the number of usuals here - the old coot working the bag in the corner, the young scrawny gentleman padding away at his target like a cat. He placed the sunglasses in his inside coat pocket, his hand gracing the holster of his weapon. =-

::The_Great_Kael:: <Kael>

::Dante_Piranesi:: -= He continued forward with his walk, directing his body into the gym, passing the first trainee with authority. His shoes seemed to click upon the floor, and would almost resound over the steady sound of speedbags and snorts that would otherwise deafen the gym. =-

::The_Great_Kael:: <Raising>

::Dante_Piranesi:: -= Stepping through the lane to pass the practice ring in the center of this gym, his eyes remained focused upon the office that was towards the back of the place. His steps remained intentional as he tilted his shaved head to the right slightly, avoiding the thin wire of a man who so flailingly handled the bag with his own meager combination of kicks, knees, and arms. =-

::Aeleon:: found herself sighing desperately after a long-distance run on the treadmill farthest from any of the other patrons' eyes. Her posture worsened slightly as she leaned forward, draping one arm over the contraption, heaving. There was no visible sign of her being out of shape - in fact, shapely was one of the first words to come to the minds of many people at first sight of her, with her exceptional hips and tiny waist. But, yo

::Kanou:: Papers rustled, a deliberate languid motion pushing the back of his chair into further recline. "Kuba." Two identical faces turned towards him, eyes narrowing as he observed both.. just how the hell were you meant to tell them apart anyway? What he assumed was the elder, Homare, given the other's oblivious expression stepped towards him. "That man, he owes 4 million now." A pause as he considered. "Sell his wife, she'll make at least some money to repay his debt." Neither expression flickered as the twins merely shrugged some form of concent before shuffling away to do his bidding.

::The_Great_Kael:: <He looked over and sort of watched Dante walk around. Sitting on his own bench he was ruffling through his bag, looking for a banana or something to eat. Kael couldn't help but watch the giant as he was walking so purposefully through the gym, and Kael had to change his song again..

::Dante_Piranesi:: -= Upon reaching his destination, Dante raised the mass of flesh and bone that was his fist, rapping harshly upon the surface of the door. He needed to speak with the gentleman who owned the place, and dicuss his terms of business. This never proved to be an easy task - he was more concerned about the cash his gym was earning than maintaining relations with the Don. =-

::Aeleon:: A rather stout man opened the door, maintaining elegance despite the irony of his stature juxtaposed with his setting. His suit - a dark tan getup - was a bit tackier than his visitor's, and his beer belly protruded from the brown belt fastening his slacks to his tiny, boxy hips. He slipped his hands in his pockets and tried to look rather commanding, his mouth scowling from beneath his bristly mustache as he looked up at Dante.

::Dante_Piranesi:: -= Dante nodded and introduced himself, extending his gloved right hand into the space before him with an open handshake. =- The name's Dante Piranesi, I'm with Vincenzo.

:: Aeleon:: The bald little man looked down at the hand, took a deep breath, and provided his own for a shake. "Terrence Milgar, a pleasure. Please come in." His mustache swept his upper lip as he wrinkled his nose and stepped aside to allow the visitor to enter. When he did, Terrence would close the door behind him discreetly.

::Kanou:: Twin pillars of malevolance dispatched to seriously ruin some peon's day a little book was pulled from under the mass of papers. 'Keeping small animals.' Stupid transvestite shit.. teeth gritted as he opened the first page. 'When you first bring your pet home it will be frightened and timid, under no circumstance touch or display violence to it.' The book flew across the office hitting the opposite wall as silently he berated the man .. woman.. well whatever it was for tormenting him with such crap. Though he had to admit.. Ayase did look rather like the hamster after all. 'NO VIOLENCE'. Well.. he'd screwed up on that too hadn't he. Absently he loosened his tie, busying his mind with business instead of the small broken fragile creature at home.

:: Aeleon:: Meanwhile, our heroine could be seen traversing the gym, female cat-eyes subtly eavesdropping as she began to lay on a well-placed yoga mat. She arched her back a bit, throwing her arms above her head and stretching with the grace and laziness of a feline, even rolling around a bit. She took a yawn, and settled herself - back flat, legs up - ready for some crunches.

::Dante_Piranesi:: -= Having stepped into the room, he brought his body around to slide back into a chair on his own will, rather than waiting for the gentleman to ask him to take a seat. His body pushed the chair downward with an audible creak before sliding his arms back to rest upon their approriate places on the chair. He paused here, waiting on this side of the desk for Mr. Milgar to take his own position, wherever he had felt comfortable, before speaking. =-

::Aeleon:: Milgar returned to his rather worn excuse for an office chair behind his desk, and turned a tiny electric fan on his desk towards him, switching the setting up a knotch. He leaned forward, authoritatively placing both his elbows on his desk and clasping his hands together. "Now, down to business.." He paused, stopped, and nearly grew flush with embarrassment. "I'm so sorry," he started, "Are you hot?" He nodded towards the fan.

::Kanou:: Abruptly he stood, suddenly finding the office to small, his brain uncharacteristically wandering to things that were something other than money and extorting it. To that tearful frightened expression. It wasn't meant to be like that. On second thought the book was retrieved. 'On the second day your pet will still be unsettled and timid.. try calling its name softly.' "Ayase.. Ayase" rumbled faintly in his chest, trying to find the softest, coaxing tone he could muster rather than the rather threatening growl he was now emitting as he briskly set to the corridor, soon catching up to the Kuba twins. "Nevermind that man, there's someone else I'd like to visit, fetch the car and have someone else deal with that wife, make sure she is sold for a reasonable price."

::Dante_Piranesi:: -= He shook his head an motioned with his hand to the interjection. =- "No, no... I'm fine." -= He set his hand back down upon the chair. =- "Terrance, let's get straight to the point. Last night, your fighter won the match. Is there any particular reason?" -= He shifted his head a bit with this question, providing the interrogative gesture. =-

::Aeleon:: Milgar laughed a hearty, greasy laugh. "Any particular reason?" He leaned back, lifting both his hands in the air. "He's my golden boy, he doesn't need a reason!" He clasped his hands together once more loudly, nodding amusedly to himself as he laughed again. Somewhere, within the recesses of this audible expression, was the hint of an honest, breadwinning man, a father watching his son grow up, a teacher -- but you would hav

::Dante_Piranesi:: -= He would speak up calmly upon this point, rebuking the gentleman with his own statement. =- "We paid you good money for him to lose. What ever happened to that? =-

::Aeleon:: His laughter did not even have the chance to fade naturally as even someone given bad news in the midst of a joke would have happen to him. His stopped dead - brusque and full one moment, dead silent the next. His face went white. He realized just now who he was talking to. "W-well, I told him not to! I told him what the stakes were, I told him just what your boss told me, I really did!" He held his hands in his lap - below t

::Aeleon:: All this time passed, and Aeleon had not even finished 50 crunches.

::Kanou:: The sleek car purred to life, the door opened this time by what he presumed to be Misao, the distinct lack of care towards life present on his features. "..." Sliding into the back seat he eyed the dopplegangers for a second, concealing the book carefully within a plethora of sheets. Homare glanced towards his twin, some sort of undescribable twin telepathy occuring as he gave the ~what's wrong with the boss and why is he reading a book about hamsters~ look to Misao.. Though he had to admit Ayase -did- look rather like a hamster, small, big eyes and cute. As though his thoughts were read 'cute' he felt the eyes of Kanou burning into the back of his head with deadly intent and silently pulled away from the apartment towards their destination.

::Dante_Piranesi:: Find yourself a new fighter. I'm puttin' my neck on the line here. This is your last chance - friend of the family doesn't cut it anymore.

::Dante_Piranesi»:: Put him out of your mind before we put him in the gutter, eh?

::Aeleon:: "But this boy has so much potential!" He leaned forward, both his palms facing the desk now. "Did you -see- how he played that guy yesterday? He could be the one!"

::Dante_Piranesi:: -= He let his head drift back to its normal resting position, his dull brown eyes looking to the form of Aeleon, his statement holding firm. =-

::Dante_Piranesi:: We're not here for your dreams, Terrence.

::Aeleon»::"He could make us so much money, he's such a slick fighter! And you should see him training, he's flawless!"

::Dante_Piranesi:: My friend...

::Dante_Piranesi:: -= He leaned forward, placing his elbows upon the surface of the table. =-

::Dante_Piranesi:: Think of what more you'll be making with us.

::Dante_Piranesi:: Besides, what good would this cash do...

::Dante_Piranesi:: -= He drifted back into his seat, to raise his hands to the back of his head. =-

::Dante_Piranesi:: ...if you had an accident?

::Dante_Piranesi:: Or perhaps we'll have your accountant properly file your taxes, for once.

::Dante_Piranesi:: Just think about it.

::Aeleon:: He sighed heavy-heartedly, Bowing his head - his bald crown glistened. "I've never seen a boy fight like that, sir, not in all my time here--" Any front of menacing he had, any sign of authority, it was gone. He looked up at Dante now with eyes wide with fright. "Wh-.. sir, I'm a family man, you know.."

::Dante_Piranesi:: Of course you are. Your family will be well taken care of - as you're going to find a new fighter.

::Dante_Piranesi:: We'll leave it at that, then.

::Kyara:: "You're asking me to choose between my life and my dream, do you even see that?" he mumbled.

::Dante_Piranesi:: -= He took stride forward, bringing his body about into a full rising motion. Upon taking his full height, he again extended his hand to shake Terrence's, disregarding the mumbled statement - as he knew this was a difficult decision for his old friend. =-

::Dante_Piranesi:: I hafta' head out of here, now. Other business, y'know.

::Terrence_Milgar:: shook his head, taking Dante's hand with a lot less vigor now. "I understand. I'll get back to you as soon as I can."

::Dante_Piranesi:: Of course. I'll be expecting to hear from you soon.

::Kanou:: If luck was only doled out to the fortunate it was then that the car drew to a halt outside of the gym, three large men stepping from the interior. The first two were twins, built rather like brick walls, both atired in sleek black suits, black hair smoothed down almost identically, eyes seeming more a dirge of grey than any particular colour. The third was clad in a noticeable expensive brown suit, his hair also short but more mused than the other two and mahogany in colouration, his eyes seemed to be an unholy concotion of crimson and auburn, though that might have just been the light. If they could have looked any more mafia they'd have a sign in big flashing letters saying 'mafia' above their head. In either case all three entered the gym.

::Dante_Piranesi:: -= He promptly took his turn, stepped forward, and reached for the door. He looked off to his right as he stepped through, bringing his gaze about for the exit, now manned by the three gentlemen who had just entered. His hand trailed a bit, closing the door behind him. =-

::Dante_Piranesi:: thought to himself, "Oh boy, here we go."

::Dante_Piranesi:: -= He adjusted his position to bring his body into the same walk, his heels clicking upon the floor below. He took the left path that would head around the center ring, passing a few other fighters who seemed to be taking their rest with the towels around their neck. They gazed up at him occasionally, otherwise disregarding his figure, as he passed, approaching the corner where Kael had been training. =-

::Kanou:: Fingers snapped sharply, the twins stalking forth towards the office, wasting no time in opening the door for he was not a man who liked to wait, nor one to knock. He enjoyed the surprise on the faces of the people he dealt with as he turned up.. sometimes fear, othertimes a cockiness he'd smash within the first few moments, the best were the one who begged though, who squirmed like a worm and offered themselves up to him. Speaking of which his mind started to drift again, the finer things in life had to be worth waiting for.. right? Discarding the thought of his pet he stepped between the Kubas into the doorway, ominously blocking all light from within. "Where is he then? After his fortune last night the first thing you'd have expected him to do is to pay me a visit with some of the 20 million he owes."

::Terrence_Milgar:: Leaned back in his chair, sighing slowly, contemplating the situation until he was rudely interrupted. "What the f-" he stopped, staring at the two goons in surprise and disbelief.

::Dante_Piranesi:: -= Promptly making his way towards the door, he noted the position of Kanou, as he reached into his coat to draw out his glasses. He paused there, fifteen feet in front of Kanou, buttoning back the front of his Versace coat, and placing his right hand into his pocket casually, looked to the gentleman who was in his path. =-

::Terrence_Milgar:: 's eyebrows furrowed. "He's not here - fighters never come in the day after their fight. 20 million?"

::Terrence_Milgar:: was still shaken from the previous conversation, but tried to regain his authoritative voice.

::Kanou:: Eyes narrowed, the aura eminating from his vicinity enough to make one think the devil was about to snatch their soul and rip it from their body right then and there. Shifting aside away from the door both to loom above Terrence and to move aside for Dante lips quirked in an expression of distaste. "You ought to know where he is. If he tries to run things will only become difficult... for everyone." A sinister tone laced his words, one of aforementioned 'goons' absently caressing what could be assumed was some kind of weapon, though Misao looked rather as though he could go 10 rounds with a food processor and not care about any damage sustained. "You'd have thought with such a hefty debt he'd at least repay me in part with some of his winnings."

::Dante_Piranesi:: -= Dante would reach for the door, stepping outward now with his glass upon his face, closing the door behing him. Passing the vehicle, he headed off into the distance.

::Terrence_Milgar:: shook a little, but tried very hard to keep it from showing. "Listen. He's not here, I don't keep up with his personal life - I'm just his trainer. If you please, just leave."

::Terrence_Milgar:: didn't do a very good job of being demanding, what with his little trembly voice.


Admin note: I put it in quote brackets for you.
Arise within the hearts of mortal men, corruption, fouled glory and the scent of fear. Tremble, innocence stolen as the obsidian of dried blood replaces the beauty where flowers once bloomed. And despair, there is naught to save your ruptured spirits.

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Lantis
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Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Lantis on Fri Aug 18, 2006 5:12 pm

Image "Irritation crossed his features, no man was allowed to escape the nefarious clutches of his organization. No one. Some did try to escape their fate though, to flee before the relentless pressure that he and his subordinates put upon them. Grasping his cellphone suddenly he felt somewhat amused again, a slow smile creeping across his countenance. Numbers were rapidly dialed in succession, all debt collection 'agencies', all on speed dial. After all the net was tightening about the young man, he could apply the right amount of pressure to flush him out into the open. "Moshi, moshi.. yes it's regarding _________, he seems to have made himself scares, hopefully you can remedy this problem for me.. I assure you retrieving him will be.. quite profittable to you.""

OOC: Ok as stated before the position of the fighter is free as is anyone who wants to be my debt collectors and randomly anyone else that wants to join in. All are welcome! ^_^ *Waves a fist for him posting so fast when his pc crashed trying to make the IC post.*

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Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Lord Saladin on Thu May 10, 2007 6:15 pm

Victory.

That was all that mattered to the man often called Trepidation. Fear. And in combat, the six foot three inches tall man created fear. His rather slim, although muscular body belied the skill with which he fought, fights ending in seconds. The result most likely the death of the man he was facing.

Standing now in his apartment, garbed in a hand made, tailored Italian suit, obsidian, with pinstripes of grey, the two piece garment fitted him like a glove fits a hand. Pressed to a pristine condition, he could not have looked more different to the man who had fought the night before in the rather run down old warehouse that housed the mob's fight club.

It was the suit, and perfectly ironed white shirt, a black tie a round his neck, tied into a perfect double Windsor, rather than the home-made, torn, sleeveless t-shirt and baggy jogging bottoms he had worn the previous night.

And the Italian, bespoke shoes of obsidian, polished to a shine, in replacement of the old, tattered trainers he had worn.

But, it was in this pristine state he felt most at home, this was who he truly was, Anthony Spencer Williams. Although, few knew that name.

Pacing backwards and forth in front of the three seater sofa within the rather modern apartment, he was brought back in his mind, to the previous night, moments before the fight.

"Let him win, just let him win"

Terrence had helped Anthony become the fighter he was, taking him in from an early age. however, victory was ll that mattered. And Anthony had attained his victory, much to the seeming despair of his trainer.

Although not taking notice of the activities of the mob, and Terrence's involvement with them, somehow Anthony knew that the mob was, in some way, involved.

Terrence was like a father, and he would ensure his safety. Hoping at the same time, that loyalty would be placed on family, rather than the mob, and money.

He was a rather normal looking man, his skin a natural bronzen hue, his face ordinary, black hair cut inconspicuously short, dark eyes showing little.

However, apart from his, some would consider, over priced suit, there was a most identifying mark about the man.

Around his left eye, running along the ridge of bone that was his eye socket, was a tattoo of tribal design, deepest black, it gave him the view of a dangerous man, even in his pristine attire. But the tattoo, and the impression it made, only touched the very tip of how dangerous he was.

Picking up the 9mm pistol from atop the polished glass coffee table, he slid it in his trousers, resting in the small of his back, unnoticeable, as he headed out of the apartment.

He wanted to know what was happening, and why he was expected to throw the match on the night before. He knew Terrence would be at the gym, so that was wear he was headed.

It mattered little to him that it was against the rules to return to your gym the day after combat, but he wanted, needed, these questions answering; his mind would never rest otherwise.

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