((The main building of the Ring is in Kings Row. It's a large warehouse and consists of several fenced in dirt rings, a barracks style sleeping area, a couple shower and locker rooms, and a rest area with a bar. (You can also get a supply of Superdine and other performance enhancing drugs there, if you know how)))
Donnie Holden walked through the main doors of the warehouse. Making his way past the rest area and heading to his small makeshift office. He had been the manager of this branch of the Ring for only a month now, but had already been congratulated on his skills. With the Colosseum being built, membership had dropped rather dramatically. The fact that the previous manager had been skimming funds didn't help either, but Donnie had been able to stop the decline and had even gotten a call from one of the higher-ups in the Family, telling him what a good job he was doing.
But then, Donnie Holden had always prided himself on doing the best job possible no matter what it was. He had treated his lowly bag-man position with the same care and respect as the more prestigious jobs he had gotten more recently. Sitting down at his desk, Donnie retreived the pile of folders from a drawer. He had been working on familiarizing himself with the longer running fighters in order to get a better feel for his position.
The folders were an archive of all the oldest and/or best fighters in the Ring. One was sitting to the side. The fighter in that folder actually had a match this morning and Donnie had figured it would be a good time to read about him. Popping in the VHS tape of the fight, Donnie opened the folder.
Alfred Keys
(no ring name)
Age: 28
Blood Type: O
Abilities: Knowledgable in basic hand-to-hand fighting. Technique mostly from street fighting and brawling. Has unique nerve mutation. When nerves fire in pain, his body can take that energy and transfer it to mucsles and tissue. This gives him slightly enhanced stamina and sometimes strength. Side effects include a temporary dulling of pain and superficial wounds tend to heal slower than normal.
Donnie watched the video of Keys' fight. It was obvious that the guy could still feel pain, dulled or not. Keys was by no means the best fighter around. Far from it. But the guy had shown some impressive feats in his time and had never turned down a fight, win or lose. And he had lost. A couple of those loses had ended up with him in intensive care. But Keys always came back for more.
Donnie continued watching the man even after the fight was over. That detached demeanor of Keys' puzzled him slightly. But as long as he kept up the fights, Donnie really didn't care. Turning back to the rest of the files, the new manager began flipping through, reading about the different fighters that made their living in the Ring.
((Consider the files a convienant way of introducing your characters.))
Donnie's eye happened to catch the morning paper's headline. "Woman Found Dead in Boomtown." He couldn't help but wince a little at the thought of that little problem. She had been one of the fighters, but after being beaten a few days ago she died shortly after being dragged from the ring.
Now usually that wouldn't have been a problem since all the members signed releases exempting the Ring from any responsibility from the outcome of the matches. However, this woman had joined while Donnie's predecessor was still running things and the idiot hadn't made sure she signed the papers. If the cops knew that she had died in one of their fights with no paperwork, it would leave the doors wide open for them to investigate every aspect of the Ring.
So Donnie had the body dumped quietly near the Boomtown entrance. The place was a warzone and Donnie was hoping that it would just be assumed that she had been beaten to death by one of the wandering gangs.
He sighed, taking a look at the schedule for that day. There was a "tanker" weapons match at eleven. The two nigh-invulnerable behemoths would go at each other in a ring filled with sledge hammers, steel girders, and other large metal things. These specialized matches were tricky to set up. Like the full-blown super powered fight he was currently trying to arrange. Perez Park would be the ideal location, but with the roving monsters that frequented the area, he would have to scout it out rather carefully.
Lasers and energy shields were flashy and drew in new people, but the Ring's bread and butter was the hand-to-hand matches. People liked the flash of super powers, but seemed to prefer seeing the fighters up close and seeing the damage they did to each other. Powered fights had to be watched from a distance or simply on video. Donnie scratched his chin thoughtfully as he looked at the other scheduled fights that day.
(OOC: My guy's unique, he uses few actual powers, and most were made up. By me.)
File:
Name: Chester (last name unknown)
Alias: Chester the Jester
Dossier: Themes himself as a jester. Uses large mallets, cartoony bombs, a stick with a miniature model of his head on the top, extending boxing gloves, and exploding cigars. Dresses in harlequin, with standard jester garb. Hooked nose and large chin make him look exactly like the profession he portrays. Also uses twin daggers in rougueish fashion. Has amazing reflexes, allowing for all sorts of acrobatics and dodging. Hasn't sustained a single hit during his career, and seems to be very attached to the pride of that accomplishment.
Chester did a perfect backflip, avoiding the humongous blade with ease. It was twice the size of a surfboard, and sharper than Dennis Miller's wit. With every swing, Chester avoided the sword. That's why people came to see him. After four hours, Chester decided to end it. He pulled out his extendo-pow and launched the spring powered glove into the enemies face. He went out like a light, as he was exhausted from swinging the sword. After the crowd left, Chester fell unconscious. Nobody knew that it took so much energy to dodge, and he was good at manipulating his body's to prevent exhaustion, but passed out afterwards. He got up four hours later and went to the bar to drink up.
[B]The Once and Future Official Minister of Awesome[/B]
[I]And don't you forget it.[/I]
[URL="http://paragonunleashed.proboards.com/index.cgi"][IMG]http://gamefacelive.com/bre/joker.png[/IMG][/URL]
((Okay, this thread is about a semi-legal underground fight business. Set up long before the upcoming Colosseum, it specialized in super-powered fights, mostly fist-fighting, though other types of matches can be set-up. I'd like to have this RP be about the over-all community of these underground fighters, though there is a larger plot that will develop. Many of the fighters are not registered heroes, though heroes can participate if they don't have any qualms about being connected to a blood-sport with illegal undertones. Also, moral heroes can also get involved. Maybe they are investigating the Ring, maybe they are connected to one of the fighters, or whatever.
Fighting in the Ring is mostly hand-to-hand and is rather brutal. If your character doesn't have any real fighting skills (relies on beams or psychic powers) you may want to think up another character if you wish to participate in the fights. Not to say that I'm limiting who can be in this thread, not at all. More morally minded heroes can also interact in the story by investigating the Ring.
Fighters sign up, stating that they know what kind of fighting goes on in the Ring and are participating of their own free will. However, it is generally known that many illegal activities are connected to the group. Gambling on fights for example; and some drug trafficing. Fighters aren't necessarily aware of these; it will be your decision just how involved your character is.
One thing I'd like to stress. This is NOT a thread for trying to beat each other's characters up. You can have your character fight as many NPC's as you want, but if you want to fight another poster, you must work out the fight with them in private messages before posting. I refuse to have any flame wars in here. Try to remember that you don't have to humiliate someone you beat and that you can still be cool even if you lose. I'd like to stay away from undefeated uber-tankers who cannot be hurt. As the saying goes, "blood sells" and two fighters who can go at it for hours and not look any different won't be very exciting.
Lastly, these are not fights to the death. People DO die, but it is never (or at least doesn't seem to be) intentional. So please no "DarkThroatSlitter threw his beaten opponent to the ground and then calmly snapped his neck". The thread is meant to be rather graphic and gritty, but I don't think it violates the boards' rating. Feel free to start your own storylines if you'd like. I'm hoping this'll just be something fun for everybody.))
(( Alfred Keys: Head shaven, otherwise rather normal looking, wirey, brown eyes, 28 years old. Wears regular street clothes, mostly older looking stuff. Only clothing change while fighting is to take off shirt. ))
There was a chilly sting in the air as the sun began to rise over Galaxy City. Alfred Keys pulled his dirty hooded sweatshirt closed against the biting wind. He took a long, lazy drag on the cigarette in his mouth as he watched the construction crew working on the foundations for the new Colosseum.
He had laughed when he heard that the city was building them. It seemed so ironic really, especially since most of the city wasn't even aware that a similar establishment had been around for quite some time. Of course, it was quite different from the rather glitzy monument to fair play that was being constructed in front of him. Keys made no judgements. Things were as they were and he accepted them that way.
Glancing at his watch, he threw the smoke away, standing from the bench. He had to get moving. It was an "Out of Ring"-er today. This time it was the bottom level of some parking garage. "Out of Ring"-s were usually in parking garages, warehouses, or on rooftops. There had been one on top of the Atlas statue once in the dead of night. At least he wouldn't have to deal with any large crowds. These ones were usually limited to 10-20 people and the less people the better, in Keys' opinion.
-------------------------------------------------------
Was that it?
*wham*
No, that wasn't it. There it was.
*wham*
Damn, stitches on forehead got ripped open again. Blood got in eyes; missed it that time.
*wham*
Keys reeled back from yet another blow to the head. He stumbled back a little, the ring of on-lookers caught him and pushed him back towards the center. The guy today, Kent "Mauler" Hower, was tough. Some sorta low level healing ability and enhanced strength. Keys shook his head, trying to clear his vision.
There. He got it this time. The slight dip in the guy's left side, giving a slight warning to the hook that was about to come. He was ready for it this time, moving his head to the right and catching Hower's arm as it went by. Keys wrapped his own arm around it, using it to pull the guy in close.
Taking advantage of the brief window of opportunity, Keys sent an elbow to the side of Hower's head, followed by slamming his forearm into his throat. Hower's healing powers kept him going, however, and he managed to grab Keys' other arm, using the leverage to throw him over his head.
Keys flew for a short distance, crashing through the windowshield of a parked van. He felt the dashboard crack and the steering wheel break under his weight. Hower was back on him in a second, pulling the bleeding man from the van. As he was dragged out, Keys managed to grab the broken steering wheel and as Hower pulled back, Keys lashed out, slamming the metal ring into the other's head.
Hower stumbled back, but Keys didn't let up, hammering at the man repeatedly. Finally, even Hower's healing couldn't keep him conscious and the man collapsed to the concrete. Keys all but fell down, sitting with his back against the van's grill. Shaky hands reached inside his pocket for a crushed pack of smokes. He didn't hear the cheers and booing of the others, but let that familiar numbness creep over him. It would hurt later, but for now he didn't feel a thing.