#breakranks

[ironstrike]

@breakranks requested a training session.

There   is   a   short   pause   on   the   student's   step   when   he   notices   the   empty   dojo.   He   had   known   what   to   expect   when   it   came   to   an   empty   room   not   even   Zara   was   there   to   keep   him   company   and   strengthen   their   teamwork.   This   meant   it   was   a   one   on   one   training   with   Sensei   Wolf.   Bag   falls   with   a   small   thud   to   the   ground   and   as   he   takes   off   his   shoes,   he   walks   to   the   mat,   all   so   robotic   after   years   of   doing   the   same.  

Though   he   is   less   focused   there,   as   he   thinks   back   on   Sam,   learning   she   had   decided   to   step   down   from   the   fight   after   he   injured   Robby   (   he   could   not   sleep   that   he   had   to   medicate   to   get   a   night   sleep,   lack   of   it   makes   him   slow   and   Wolf   hates   him   slow   ).   "Sensei?"   He   calls   into   the   darkness   for   a   moment,   his   voice   unwavering   but   the   frown   on   his   forehead   betrays   his   sentiment.

[opponentcompel]

@breakranks | WOLF

ㅤㅤA handful of baht are haphazardly strewn against the elongated wooden surface, the corner of one of the bills meeting with a sticky pool of liquid which Terry surmises is spillage from one of the garish cocktails some of the expats had been indulging in, raucous laughter having only exacerbated with each glass they downed. The bartender scoops up and sifts through the remnants of the tab that the towering man is settling, a questioning inclination of her line of vision towards the patron given how it’s far too much, the thought that it may be a mistake quelled as he firmly clarifies that it isn’t just for him, but rather for the esteemed fighter too  (  & to the victor go the spoils  ).  The woman’s wide-eyed gaze lowers in understanding while shifting away, removing herself from the unsettling shadow cast over her to find the relative safety of the green and red glow of their surroundings once again, knowing a thing or two about trouble when she sees it. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤIt’s late enough for the thrumming crowd to have somewhat dissipated to move on to some of the street’s other bars, the next series of combatants taking position amidst preparatory murmurs, their caged confinement having just been mopped to rid it of scattered crimson droplets, each of which resultant of forceful points of impact with a braying crowd begging for more. Gelid eyes scantly proffer a glance in their direction  (  uninterested despite a penchant for skilled brutality  ),  the elderly man having already attained his goal of finding the certain someone he’d been searching for.  “ Ready to go? ”  The question is rhetorical with the former sensei barely waiting upon seeing Wolf re-emerge with whatever belongings he’d set aside before his fight  (  an assumption made that that includes his winnings  ),  an ambling gait towards the establishment’s exit seeing the edge of a knee carelessly nudging against a barstool in his haze, the gesture creating a low scrape across the ground that grates against the ears.

ㅤㅤIt’s the least worrying of stimuli, the heady stench of sweat hanging in the atmosphere intermingled with humidity, its potency lessening as the pair draw closer to the door, a heavyset bouncer skeptically looking them up and down before stepping aside. While a dull ache resides within Terry’s temples  (  a pulse burgeoning behind fatigued eyes  ),  a new lease of life blossoms with the upcoming opportunity, determination sparking heightening lucidity.  “ Your dōjō, your students. If this partnership’s gonna work, I wanna know everything about them. ”  There’s only so much information that a private investigator with a hefty hourly rate can provide - this needs a personal touch of genuine enthusiasm, the trace of an encouraging smile curling into place.