Looking for a Fight |
Summary: | Lillian goes to investigate a new underground fight club. |
Date: | IC Date (2014-10-12) |
Related: | None |
NPCs: | Titania & Absorbing Man |
Scene Runner: | Hellstrom |
Social/Plot: | Plot |
-==[ Mephisticuffs Fight Club and Eatery — Hell's Kitchen ]==--—
Mephisicuffs is an expansive facility located within a pocket dimension. The primary way for outsiders to access the realm is through a controlled portal from a back alleyway within Hell's Kitchen, New York. The portal leads into an antechamber where coats are checked and admission is paid for. From the antechamber, one will enter a large circular room that has the affectations of being in a huge cavern. The borders of the room are tiered. The lower tier is filled with tables and chairs for the partaking of eating a fine meal. The second tier is for dancing with a circular bar and many tenders. And the third tier is seated as a stadium for watching the central venue. All tiers are open to the central floor where the main event occurs.
During operating hours, which is typically in the evenings into the late night, this establishment is alive with activity. Most all are here to see the spectacles of the fight. Most fights include demons fighting demons while others involve pitting demons with metahumans or even metahumans vs metahumans. In all, the fights are wagered upon and the second floor offers gambling booths for such activities. The lower floor restaurant offers delicious meals that one can find anywhere on Earth and beyond. So if someone is seen eating something that still squirms, know that it's on the menu.
The central fighting ring is a circle, sometimes it is equipped with a magical fence, other times just a simple rope that if crossed, the combatants could be vaporized.
During off hours, the location is often devoid of no more than a skeleton crew who cleans and restocks the shelves. Sometimes the center ring is used for practice by metahuman combatants.
After scrounging through the words on the street, hitting up persons x, y, and z. Lillian comes across something she can use. The location of a place called Mephisicuffs. Which is the new underground fight club and eatery which is all the rave among the underground.
Eleven PM. Hell's Kitchen, some random back alleyway and through a non descript door, shuttered and a password is necessary (which she was informed of by her contacts), Lillian finds her way into the anteroom of the establishment. When she steps through, she may notice that there's a different feel to the environment, perhaps the gravity is a little off, maybe the unique smells or maybe it's just adrenaline. There is a brief line to get to the ticket booth where Lil will be able to pay to enter. There are three exits from this darkend room. One set of double doors into the main areas, another into a side hallway where she will take note of some other larger people passing through, and a smaller door that reads office. All areas are guarded by rather ugly, full black eyed men. The ticket window will present with a set of bars and a woman sitting behind them. The woman asks, "Spectator or combatant?" when approached by Lil.
Lillian Crawley considers for a moment. First time here, she should probably just check out the scene, take a look around, but she's not much afraid of a fight either. She's wearing her fighting gear, hands wrapped in tape, sports bra on underneath her thick-fabric sweatshirt, the hood pulled up. Her brunette hair is braided into tight cornrows.
"Prospective fighter. I ain't seen what kinda action you got here yet, but I ain't afraid to throw bombs if things look interestin'. I just don't wanna sign up if I'm gonna get bored. I like to earn my money," she says, staring down a few of the black-eyed men who look her way.
The woman looks Lil over and smirks, "Of course sweetheart. That'll be 100 dollars. You'll enter through that door over there.". She indicates the side door. "When you're ready to sign in, be sure to talk to the Steward. He'll set you up.
She then waits for the money to be handed over.
Lillian Crawley hands over the cash, folded up from a spot in her cleavage, the bills a little crumpled. "Kinda steep fer new blood. Eh, I got nothin' better t'do today," she says, pushing on past and looking around for someone who looks authoritative, 'Yo, where's this Stewart dude?" she asks, poking one of the black-eyed men on the arm.
One of the black eyed men points to the side doors and says, "You'll find his office in there. Upstairs, near the back."
The side door leads to stairs up and then a long semi circular hallway that has many doors along its length. The doors are all marked Private and many have an additional nameplate slide that is vacant or filled with names such as, "Deathbringer", "Staple", "Crowbar", "King-o-Pain", "Macho Man", "Killstroke", and so on. The blank ones are likely the ones that are vacant. Lil will have the opportunity to pass a few people down the hall, most of which are bloodied, battle worn, and smell of carnage. If asked where the Steward is, they'll point back deeper down the hallway.
The hallway opens up into a large gym where man of the combatants are working out, shadow boxing, making ready for their match. Most look human, or at least humanoid. While others look nearly alien or eerily demonic. The gym has large glass windows on one side where spectators can view what they're wagering on. There are many well dressed, well to do, individuals looking in, talking behind the glass as they point and indicate their intentions to one another.
The gym also features an office whose door is open and labled Steward. Inside the office are two men. One of the men wears a business suit of black and dark undertones of the shirt/tie. He has red hair and is in his 30s. The other is a man of his 50s wearing a sport coat, cotton slacks and a tshirt beneath. They're discussing tonight's events. Just outside the door is another dark eyed guard.
There are several exits from this room, one is labled Arena.
Lillian Crawley lights a smoke as she makes her way down the hall, if only to cover the smell of sweaty men that always accompanies places like this. A little Old Spice'd go a long way, fellas, just sayin'. She nods to those who pass her by. She takes a look at some of the various fighters, not particularly disturbed to see non-humans involved. It's New York, Morlocks make up half of just about any fighting ring around these days. Kinda the metahuman equivalent of bumfights, but whatever. She may even see a face or two she knows.
Seeing the office and the well-dressed men, she makes her way towards it, standing across from the guard, "Steward. Funny name. Anyways, bitch out front says he's the man t'see, so here I am t'see 'im. You just gonna stand there, will.i.am., or you gonna get me the man?" she says to the guard.
Addressing the black-eyed guard, Lillian is looked down upon by the larger man. His arms unfold and he thumbs back into the room. His deep voice relays, "Sport coat, he's the steward. The other guy is the big boss. Go on in."
Inside, the two men are standing on either side of a common metal framed desk. There are various seats in the room, a small table in one of the corners, and even a dry bar where liquor is found with a few glasses.
On the table appears to be some sort of ledger.
Lillian Crawley leans in the doorway, not going all the way inside, just keeping it casual (and also not getting herself trapped in a room unless she has to do so. "Yo, I guess I gotta sign up or some shit back here? Name's Lil. I been on the circuit for a while, you mighta heard my name tossed around. What's the dealio 'round these parts?"
Both men stop talking and turn to view Lil. The man in the suit smiles for he sees opportunity. The man in the sport coat seems a bit more gruff. The man in the sport coat says, "I'm the Steward, you can call me Jimmy. The deal is, we class you, you pay to fight, we put you in the ring, and if you win, you make what you paid and get a little scratch on top of it."
Lillian Crawley snorts, "Sounds like a nice scam. If I'm gonna fight, I expect to get more'n a little scratch back. I figure if word's gettin' to me, you must be movin' into the big time, but sounds a little like you're still penny-ante, Jimbo. What kinda money we actually talkin'? I already put in a hundred with Titsy McGee out front. You gonna make me rent my shoes, too, like I'm at a friggin' bowling alley? How you gonna class me anyways? You got a mook fer me to fight, just point 'em out so I can knock 'im out and figure out if you're worth my time."
They both laugh and are far from intimidated or impressed. Jim says, "Getta load of this one. She shows up and thinks shes gonna run the place."
THe other man states, "Now-now Jim. She ain't the first, nor the last, but at least she's got chutzba."
The man in the suit steps forward, "Name's Hellstrom. I own this place. Come on sweetheart, let's get you classed so you don't get in over your head and get that pretty face all messed up."
They both laugh and are far from intimidated or impressed. Jim says, "Getta load of this one. She shows up and thinks shes gonna run the place."
THe other man states, "Now-now Jim. She ain't the first, nor the last, but at least she's got chutzba."
The man in the suit steps forward, "Name's Hellstrom. I own this place. Come on sweetheart, let's get you classed so you don't get in over your head and get that pretty face all messed up."
Lillian Crawley just looks dull-eyed at both. She knows the type well enough. Arrogant, more money than sense, thinks their dicks make them rule the world. Personally, she's tempted to just start kicking both their asses all over the room, but she's supposed to be investigating. "Don't you be worryin' about my face. I ain't here to be pretty. An' the last thing I wanna do is end up like you, runnin' a place that smells like the sweat under a hobo's balls stuck in an office kissin' this ginger's ass."
She turns, chucking her shoulder against the guard as she goes past, "Enough of this shit. Gimme somebody to fight already."
They both laugh again. Comment about her being a spitfire and then Hellstrom says, "Come with me."
In the gym are both men and women. One woman in particular is seen wearing a purple stylized costume with spikes on the sleeves. Her frame is incredibly muscular. She is of blonde hair and seems quite rough around the edges. She stands next to a bald man that isn't all that attractive. The one thing that stands out about him is there is an iron wrecking ball and chain next to him on the floor.
[OOC] Hellstrom says, "http://static.comicvine.com/uploads/original/0/6535/363953-120995-titania.jpg"
[OOC] Hellstrom says, "http://static.comicvine.com/uploads/original/4/49448/1666274-absorbing_man.jpg"
Hellstrom leads Lil through the gym to a far back corner where there is a machine that has several bars, cranks, and various damage inflicting aspects. He talks as he walks, "'Classing You' means that we need to figure out what you can dish out, and what you can take. If we were to put you in the ring with say, Titania over there, we've got to know that you're not going to be splattered in the first punch. That could lose some people a lot of money and it wouldn't have much of an entertainment value. There needs to be a fight and some excitement generated. Plus, the more you fight, the more money you make."
Lillian Crawley walks along, looking over the pair with raised eyebrows. Titania she's heard of, at least a little bit, enough to know that the bitch is strong as hell. "Whatever you need me to do, dude." she says simply, hands in the pocket of her sweatshirt.
Hellstrom introduces the machine. He lists several of its functions and says, "First, put your elbow against this leverage point and grab that bar. I need to know what you can curl."
It's simple enough, the machine will list a maximum strength rating. Also, now that she is closer, Lil may notice unique markings on the machine that aren't in english and seem glyphic in nature - even though the machine is mechanical and electronic in its outward appearance.
Lillian Crawley doesn't know much about machinery and wouldn't know a scientific symbol from a magic symbol from a hole in the ground. She just puts her limbs where she's told, putting her effort in as it goes by. Her super strength is quite modest, actually, far inferior to Titania's, in that she can only lift a few tons at most, and evn then she'd be pressed.
Hellstrom seems disappointed when she demonstrates her strength and he humphs when that particular reading is completed. He then moves her to the receiving side where she is to stick her arm into a hole and hold it there while the machine tests various types of attacks. Physical and energy classes are the first to be determined. The energy goes through the gambit of elemental forces (ice, heat, electricity, fire) and even some unnamed radiations or obscure energies.
Ultimately, the testing proves useful and impressive to Hellstrom as he reads about her defenses. "Seems you're nigh invulnerable. This could prove interesting when pitting you against those with energy sheaths. But how do you stand up to raw magical attacks? Any idea?"