Post by Ndeye Ndao on Apr 20, 2020 21:48:17 GMT -4
Money. Publicity. Plutocracy, the hated enemy who'd entrapped her months ago along with dozens of other criminals with the promise of M.A.R.I.N.E., which had turned out to be woefully defective in its potential. Any of these would have been logical reasons for Ndeye Ndao to seek out Plutocracy's organized fighting ring. While the ring specialized in abducting fighters and pitting them against one another, they made some allowances for walk-ins too. The fighter known as Calibar had not sought out the ring for any professional or grudge-based purpose... in reality, she'd just been looking for a place to fight and didn't much care as to the "who." Still, this provided her a convenient place where she could beat up on folks without having to expose herself to the possibility of arrest.
So long as she didn't spare any thought towards empathy for whoever she was pummeling, of course. So far, she'd completed a gauntlet of two men, the first unfortunately without a quirk, the second with one that hadn't served him very well. The first lay sideways on the arena floor against a wall, half-unconscious, while the second was flat on his face, probably a little worse-off than unconscious. Ndeye had a few scratches and scrapes across her black gear, consisting of a workout top and close-fitting shorts, which, along with a black, lower-face bandana with a snake's mouth printed upon it, made up the whole of the outfit. Her body was also cut up, but those gashes were isolated primarily to her arms, which had already begun to regenerate. As a matter of fact, the worst injury she'd sustained so far was to her stamina, just from pulverizing the second opponent too thoroughly.
"Weaklings! I came here to fight, not to be fed!" the huge, dark lady spat upon the immobile body of the second challenger. "Bring out the next!"
The next "fighter" didn't seem much like they fit that description. When the cage opened, the guy, despite being dressed like a yakuza, looked as though he couldn't be over the age of seventeen. He shook his head feverishly as the cage door opened, revealing his body pressed against the back of the entrance. "You're kidding me...! Where the frick am I?!" he groaned, looking nervously at the two defeated fighters where they lay, then to the crowd, then finally, stopping on the menacing woman flexing her biceps and growing new scales at the other side of the ring. "Wait... Is this... Some kinda joke?! I just dress this way to get chicks!" he either informed Plutocracy or else, bluffed, clawing at the cage walls. The young man threw the heavy chains off his neck like they were cursed. "I ain't part of a gang or nothing! Let me out!"
"Hah! If you're that cowardly, then I don't want to fight you either," Ndeye grunted. The man looked hopeful for a moment, before she clenched her teeth and pointed her thumb towards the floor. "Kneel and I'll make it quick for you."
That obviously wasn't the answer the guy was looking for. He shook the cage harder, begging for someone to let him out, as Ndeye approached, pounding her fists together. Truth be told, this wasn't a productive way for her to let off steam from work... but unlike alcohol, it served as training as well. It was hard to find a good way to train the skillset she needed for her profession... this was as good a way as any she'd encountered. It stung that she had to do it under the eyes of Plutocracy, but they'd get theirs too eventually, she figured.
"W-Wait! There's a rule, right, that if somebody in the audience will switch places with me, I can go?! Come on, somebody! Spot me! I-I've still got money in my pocket, I can pay you!" he promised, although he did not visibly produce the catch. It was pretty darn likely to be another bluff. The crowd laughed; who would be stupid enough to take that offer?
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WC 666
So long as she didn't spare any thought towards empathy for whoever she was pummeling, of course. So far, she'd completed a gauntlet of two men, the first unfortunately without a quirk, the second with one that hadn't served him very well. The first lay sideways on the arena floor against a wall, half-unconscious, while the second was flat on his face, probably a little worse-off than unconscious. Ndeye had a few scratches and scrapes across her black gear, consisting of a workout top and close-fitting shorts, which, along with a black, lower-face bandana with a snake's mouth printed upon it, made up the whole of the outfit. Her body was also cut up, but those gashes were isolated primarily to her arms, which had already begun to regenerate. As a matter of fact, the worst injury she'd sustained so far was to her stamina, just from pulverizing the second opponent too thoroughly.
"Weaklings! I came here to fight, not to be fed!" the huge, dark lady spat upon the immobile body of the second challenger. "Bring out the next!"
The next "fighter" didn't seem much like they fit that description. When the cage opened, the guy, despite being dressed like a yakuza, looked as though he couldn't be over the age of seventeen. He shook his head feverishly as the cage door opened, revealing his body pressed against the back of the entrance. "You're kidding me...! Where the frick am I?!" he groaned, looking nervously at the two defeated fighters where they lay, then to the crowd, then finally, stopping on the menacing woman flexing her biceps and growing new scales at the other side of the ring. "Wait... Is this... Some kinda joke?! I just dress this way to get chicks!" he either informed Plutocracy or else, bluffed, clawing at the cage walls. The young man threw the heavy chains off his neck like they were cursed. "I ain't part of a gang or nothing! Let me out!"
"Hah! If you're that cowardly, then I don't want to fight you either," Ndeye grunted. The man looked hopeful for a moment, before she clenched her teeth and pointed her thumb towards the floor. "Kneel and I'll make it quick for you."
That obviously wasn't the answer the guy was looking for. He shook the cage harder, begging for someone to let him out, as Ndeye approached, pounding her fists together. Truth be told, this wasn't a productive way for her to let off steam from work... but unlike alcohol, it served as training as well. It was hard to find a good way to train the skillset she needed for her profession... this was as good a way as any she'd encountered. It stung that she had to do it under the eyes of Plutocracy, but they'd get theirs too eventually, she figured.
"W-Wait! There's a rule, right, that if somebody in the audience will switch places with me, I can go?! Come on, somebody! Spot me! I-I've still got money in my pocket, I can pay you!" he promised, although he did not visibly produce the catch. It was pretty darn likely to be another bluff. The crowd laughed; who would be stupid enough to take that offer?
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WC 666
