@not-the-usual-suspects [x]
Normally the City was quiet at this time of night, especially considering curfew had just taken effect, but in South District the rules were much different. Curfew wasn’t observed, and what should have been commonplace was actually very foreign in concept. The only thing that mattered was the strength that one person possessed to hold their own in battles that - eventually - took place. Every night, at least one all out battle happened, and anyone who was willing to participate was highly encouraged to do so to secure another night of being left alone.
A group of young men had gathered in the middle of the District, and the battle was already underway. Several of them were already down for the count, being taken out of the battle and set up so that others could take care of their injuries. Just like the daytime hours, anything could happen, and with all the punches being thrown it was nearly impossible to avoid being hit.
Which made it rather impressive that a certain blond near the middle of the group was avoiding nearly every single jab and uppercut that was being thrown his way, without even looking in the direction they were coming from. He was also landing every single hit he was dishing out, moving over the fallen fighters to keep from losing his footing.
The dark, eerie streets were a familiar sight to Dingo, and one he would have preferred to forget. He knew that nothing good would happen from wandering into these parts of this unknown city, yet his curiousness pushed him forward, along with another of his main traits - his undying desire for a good fight.
And a fight Dingo indeed found, giving him the occasion to throw some good punches around. It was all fun and games, until Dingo took notice of the great number of opponents that surrounded him. He was overwhelmed.
The short moment of distraction was Dingo’s downfall. A first punch caught him straight in the nose, and another one in the jaw. He tried to kick his opponent away, but a strong hand caught his leg, and he was ruthlessly thrown to the ground.
Stars danced in front of the boy’s vision, and he could tell that his nose was bleeding. More kicks landed onto his limbs and back, as his opponents made sure that he stayed down. Dingo couldn’t even hope to stand back up on his own.
