[BET] | Fight Club
Yelan found it a bit surprising that a small and cute city the likes of Belobog would also form a sort of fight club. Yet, here she was, wandering through the Underworld’s den of bloodsport. She was interested, intrigued by it, though for different reasons than most in attendance here. She just needed to find someone that might match that energy of hers.
The crowd of people here seemed… underwhelming to Yelan, as though they hadn’t much to offer, or were just plain boring men and women who wanted to witness a flurry of blows between competitors, rather than trying to make a profit from those who crossed blows. At least someone in attendance had to be interested.
Then, she caught the figure of a blonde man in attendance, and with one look at his attire Yelan could almost hear the Mora and Credits singing. His outfit was stand-out, like a bird trying to call to attention, and his boa reminded her of the one that clung to her neck. A rich sense of fashion, maybe maybe... Smirking, Yelan approaches the man, with Credits in one hand, and Mora in another. “Well hello there~”
She leans in, daring not to touch the expensive seeming man, but still coming close enough that her voice could drop to a whisper. “You seem like the gambling type” he didn’t, at least not outright to her, but Yelan wouldn’t say that, “wanna try and turn a profit with me? Encouraging a little friendly gambling wouldn’t hurt anyone drunk off of good spirits, yeah?”
AFTER THE COLLABORATION SHOW DIED DOWN , ♤ things went back to business as usual in the belobog underworld fight club. there was a lull in events as a few dingily-dressed men cleaned up the arena with large, horizontal mops, less——he'd learned just this morning, though unsurprised to hear——out of particular care for the facilities and more to avert complaints from contestants that a sweat-slippery floor had been the reason for their untimely loss.
soreness still lingering in echoes behind his ribs and the ache throughout each limb, aventurine loiters for longer than is probably necessary. he's not sure what he's looking for, or if there's anything at all, eyes just scanning from where he stands close by the makeshift medical station, idly measuring the length of his breath as he draws it in and feels his torso expand until it turns uncomfortable, seeing just how far he's willing to push. the low roar of the place in intermission is the perfect sea to be lost in——people coming and going, moving through and amongst each other as the staff coordinate the evening's next order of events. no one's paying attention to him ; the spotlight is off ; the announcer's boisterous voice has retired. in the din, he can opt to be just another cheap gemstone under the dirty, bronze light.
but one, apparently, who still caught the attention of someone panning for gold.
the woman isn't anyone he recognizes, but by the way she's dressed, she's either someone of a certain standard or likes to feel like she is. by the way she comes fearlessly close, he's almost surprised not to detect any hint of alcohol or substance on her breath ; but whatever type of dealer she is, legitimate or an underworld scammer, she's unfortunately come at the wrong time.
"very sorry, ma'am." he turns to let her down kindly, fuschia and blue kaleidescopic in the low light, scattering their opal low across an unassuming smile, warm and musk. in the forge-like grime of the fight club's metal jungle, they shine with a cool glassiness like scales. "but you've just missed today's big show that almost everyone's spent their money on already. you might have a hard time finding any takers for a strong bet tonight."
