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Friday Night Fights


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Good, Moira thought, at least he's not getting the wrong idea. Maybe I can get an idea of how strong he is. She smiled warmly and eased into his embrace. Taking a cue from her amorous friend, she laid her head on O'ren's chest and wrapped her arms around his lower abdomen. Slowly caressing his stomach, she found out his muscles were more tightly packed than the usual, no doubt one of the reasons he was in this business. She looked up and tried to ask him something, but it seemed like he was trying to size up Jack.

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Jack was all cool elegance and grace, a perfectly composed prince of the night as he led the way downstairs. Once inside the cab, he pressed a twenty into the driver's hand to speed him along, sliding in alongside Stephanie in a very friendly, comfortable posture. The cab's size meant they all had to be a little friendly, but wasn't that part of the show? "So what led you into the fighting circuit?" he asked O'Ren politely, dividing his attention neatly between man and lady.

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Hellbound's arm was rock solid as it welcomed Moira, making him seem strong as an anvil and twice as dense. Despite this solidity, though, he didn't show even a hint of clumsiness. His footsteps seemed lighter than they should and he moved with a grace and confidence that was almost inhuman.

Once in the cab, and the question regarding his career choices had been posed, Hellbound had to laugh.

"You gotta be kidding me, right?"

He was leaning, casually, against his door while one arm dangled from the cab in the wind. Night air whipped past them all as they drove through the starlight peace of their little-used utillity road.

"Where else can a guy like me go to have fun and not get thrown in jail? I mean, besides putting on a cape and wearing my underwear on the outsides of my tights? Bust heads like that on the street and eventually I'll end up sitting in a very small room with very little to do.

"This way, I not only get to meet dudes willing to get tossed around for a while, but I get paid for it at the same time."

It was harsh outlook on life, perhaps, but something from the way he spoke almost made it seem like a prepared speech. Hellbound certainly didn't seem like the type to randomly assualt someone in the street even without the threat of jailtime. There was no doubting that he loved what he did, but at the same time that he also had enough self-discipline not to get carried away with the role.

"So I poked around to see who was letting metas fight without laying a ton of regs on 'em, and that's what I got. But what about you guys? What brought you out to watch a bunch of us mooks knock each other around like that?"

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"It's for business," said Jack with a rueful little laugh. "Truthfully, I can think of far more pleasant ways to spend the evening." He beamed at Stephanie as he said that, but looked back to O'Ren to add "But I'm content with not being my own boss. Having an employer can be very beneficial. If you know how to work the system." He stroked Stephanie's cheek as he talked to O'Ren, balancing the business talk and keeping the lady happy with cool professionalism. "How's the money coming in for you? Are they treating you well?"

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"Heh... money's crap. But there are more important things in life than money, you know?"

Actually, one of those more important things was not having to bum rides from people or walk everywhere. He might be the reinging poster boy of SuperSlams at the moment, but that didn't mean they were ever going to pay him what he was worth. And it wasn't like he'd ever see an endorcement deal out of the quasi-legal fight club scene.

Hellbound's eyes glazed a bit as he considered his lot and stared out the window. Maybe there was something to this whole 'having someone work for you' thing that a good agent could put behind him?

"Yeah, whatever. How about you, Red? Whatcha come out for, tonight? Can't be just to get out of the house, you could do that at any club downtown and not worry about getting hit witha broken tooth."

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Moira had zoned out listening to the conversation between Jack and O'ren. She was trying to fit in the cab as well as the other three. Stephanie was almost sitting in Jack's lap and she was trying to scoot as close as she could to O'Ren without pushing him against the door. When she heard her nickname, she snapped back to reality. "Well, I've been coming to the fights out here for," she paused for a mental count, "over three years now." She smiled and tried to lean her head against his shoulder despite the eclosed area, "I guess the first time you see real brutal stuff like that it sort of sticks with you."

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"Same thing happens when you experience it, too." O'ren admitted. "Not just when you see it, but I'm not sure I'm the best person to go by. I've pretty much been into the rough stuff for as long as I can remember. Sometimes I swear my earliest memories are about me finding someone bigger than myself to pick a fight with."

The road continued to pass by as he talked and looked out into the night. It was dark hours like this that he liked to stare into the shadows and wonder who his parents were. Hellbound had, for all that he knew, been born with his powers. Without understanding where he'd come from, though, there was no way to know why.

But that was hardly proper conversation for a group of people heading towards a party. As the cab cruised along, eventually the passengers could hear the first thrumming beats of some over sized set of bass speakers.

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Moira listened to O'Ren's story with satisfaction. The line about fighting all his life was music to her ears. She didn't want to know how to kill someone (she assumed that she would learn that from him one day), she just didn't want to look incompetent like she was last weekend.

She had never been to a rave before, but a party was a party. Still it was too public for what she wanted to ask him. She'd have to pull him away for a second when they got out of the cab. Hopefully he didn't have any plans for that party.

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"Dunno." He put an honest answer to Jack's question. "Whoever's dumb enough to get in the ring."

It hadn't occurred to Hellbound to put effort into setting up his fights. He was pretty happy just encountering foes randomly in the ring, it gave him a nice variety of people to beat on. Certainly, actually scheduling matches might create greater opportunity for profit, however...

As they came up on the scene, the first thing they noticed was the brilliant and warm light of a bonfire. There was a thin windbreak of trees surrounding the locale, but firelight could still be seen dancing beyond the trunks. A dirt road broke off from the asphalt they'd been traveling which lead downwards towards the river and the cab, following directions gleaned from the flyer, pulled off onto it.

Loud music became obvious and could probably be heard clearly a good mile or two away. There was obvious reason why the ravers wanted to come out this far, the city probably didn't hold a spot private enough for them to make quite this much noise without incident.

The dirt road turned into well traveled sand which led them through a grassy parking area carved into the surrounding trees. Cars of all descriptions and price tags occupied every conceivable square inch they could and even spilled out into the still-untraveled spots of the wood. The place was packed with party-lovers and, if the vehicles were any judge, they came from a lot of different walks of life.

As they continued to pull closer to the rave, shadowed figures could be seen moving around in the glow of the massive bonfire. Flames reached a good ten or fifteen feet into the air and the entire beach was lit up by smoky, hypnotizing light. Techno music with electronically tortured lyrics and a bone-rattling bass drive seemed to reach inside of the group and become them to come closer.

A big, white van had been pulled onto the curving, secluded beach and a D.J. setup spilled out from the rear double-doors. There was a wild logo on the side which proclaimed them to be members of the Porta-Party crew (Good Times for Hire), with stacks of CDs and a complex digital audio rig surrounded the boy working the spins.

He had at least one tech buzzing around him following directions, but it was difficult to tell what all they were doing with the crowd that'd been gathered. A large number of people gathered around the D.J. to get watch him work. Far more were moving in frenetic motion around the bonfire itself in a modern scene of expressive dance.

Glow sticks and other accouterments could be seen spinning in the mix of light and shadow while knots of people gathered around random coolers and grills spaced at the edge of the fire's effect. It looked like everyone who couldn't get into a club tonight had gathered for the party and there were clearly people from every cultural aspect represented.

Some clearly had money to throw at the latest fashions as they were dressed sharply in the trend-of-the-week, while others seemed to have just thrown things on at random before showing up. There were the stereotypical rainbow-bright ravers of the late '90s along with the more modern interpretations of that bygone era.

One thing was clear as they made their exits from the cab, however. No matter what walk of life someone seemed to have come from, all were welcome and the whole crowd seemed to mix without incident.

"See, man?" Hellbound proudly proclaimed as he exited and put his foot into the soft sand of the beach. He struck a match in the semi-darkness and put it to a cigar which had appeared, almost as if by magic, in his mouth. "Now this is what I call a fraggin' party!"

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Jack stepped out of the car, arm cheerfully around Stephanie, and suddenly froze as he peered at one half-visible figure in the crowd. "'scuse me. I'll be right back." He strode purposefully into the crowd, cutting out his target neatly and pulling them aside for a sharp, quiet one-on-one. Whoever he was arguing with, an African-American woman in her early twenties in clubbing gear, answered back with gusto, the two of them carrying on a sharp, fierce little argument.

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Stepping out after O'Ren, Moira stretched her arms and legs. The cab ride was almost unbearable. If these people weren't someone she knew, she probably would have been in a foul mood. But the warm weather and the people she knew (and the person she would get to know) made her less cranky.

Looking around at the party goers, she feels a bit underdressed and possibly out of place in her black track pants and form-fitting black tank top. She looked around for Stephanie and Jack, but it seemed they had already made their way in to the night's festivities. Now was the perfect time to ask O'Ren. She looked to him with a hopeful smile then whispered in his ear, "I need to talk to you. Alone."

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Hellbound watched the exchange between jack and his friend with curiosity. Without knowing the relationship between the two, it wasn't really any of his business how they handled each other. For all he knew, Jack had a perfectly good reason for stepping on the girl's buzz.

When Moira asked him to wander off by themselves, he muttered an amused comment about everyone wanting a piece of Hellbound before looking to see that Steph would be okay. He wasn't completely comfortable with leaving her hanging all by herself, but if she didn't mind then neither would he.

It seemed that she was still keeping close to Jack, so once satisfied that the other girl wasn't going to wander off and get into trouble, he headed out with Moira.

"So what's up, Red?" He'd degenerated back into using her nickname. The only alternative that he could really come up with for Moira was a simple 'Moe', and she really didn't have the right haircut for that.

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With the competition chased off, Jack looked around for his friends to see them heading away together. "Huh. Good work, O'Ren," he murmured to himself, enjoying the view for a moment before he rejoined Stephanie, all poise and good looks. "A pleasure to see you again, you lovely thing." He pulled Stephanie away to dance, plying her with passing drinks, keeping her very happy indeed. After all, tonight was the night he was going to get some that wasn't from an unconscious thug or a rat. If he played his cards right.

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Moira gently took O'Ren by the hand and guided him away from the party like atmosphere to the woooded area surrounding the place. The butterflies in her stomach were kicking into high gear as she thought of how she would phrase her question. They stopped when they got a ways into the wooded area. The party was still visible from where they were, but the droning sounds were softer. She let go of him and leaned against a sturdy looking tree. She smiled and looked at him with a face of reserved exitement, like she would jump at any minute if he said anything. "O'Ren, I've been watching your matches ever since you were SuperSlams. And ever since about a month after that, I've wanted to meet you... personally. Will you," she paused to slowly take a step forward getting right next to him, putting them almost face to face, "teach me how to fight?"

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Hellbound had been in this position before. Many times, fans and groupies managed to catch up with the young fighter and pull his attention away from the crowd. He liked where such walks usually lead, and in his mind he was already exploring the subtle curves of his current companion.

When they came to a halt, Hellbound put a hand against Moira's tree and leaned in closely to listen. His arm was near her without making contact and he seemed able to take in her scent, a wild and exotic aroma. That might have been her perfume, residue from the bonfire still crackling visibly through the trees or it could have just been plain-old-fashioned lust in the fighter, but he was fairly certain he'd never smelled anything like it.

He interrupted, only once, during her pause with a quiet 'yeah?' His head was closer to hers at the time and he leaned in, expecting only the best to come out of her mouth next, and almost missed the question that had actually be asked rather than the one forming in his head.

"...what?" Hellbound muttered in disjointed confusion. His hand slipped along the tree bark keeping him propped up and he stumbled for just a moment as he rapidly switched mental gears.

"You want me to... what?" He asked, rhetorically. O'ren had heard her correctly, but there was a part of his brain that just wasn't excepting it. Humor seemed to form in his voice as he spoke next.

"... no... no, I don't think that'd be a good idea. I mean, I aint exactly Billy Blanks over here. I punch out cinder blocks for frag's sake."

Demonstrably, he drew back the hand which had nearly let him fall and shot it forward as a fist. Hellbound's blow landed solidly against the tree a good foot or so from Moira's head, but the impact was felt clearly. The wood seemed to resonate deeply from it and a fair depression had been left around his knuckles.

"I hit a normal human being like that? They're probably not gonna do well. 'Might be better to hit one of the self-defense classes they teach downtown, you know?"

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Moira flinched as she soaked in the O'Ren's sarcastic disbelief. She expected his reaction to be as such, but that didn't dampen her resolve. She flinched again when the tree went flying past her. After his talk of joining a self defense class, she grinned at him with determination, "Well, I have tried before." She then walked over to the felled tree. Grabbing it with one hand where his blow left a mark, she stood it back up with the ease of a toothpick. "But they say I hit too hard," she said wrapping her hands around the sides of the broken tree before forcing it into the ground, "and that they couldn't move me that easily." She winked at him, "They said I should find superhuman help."

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"Ah, yeah... ya' see..." Hellbound watched the seemingly mortal woman move the tree easily. It was an impressive feat, he had to admit.

"You didn't tell me you could do that, now did you?"

She was strong, but he wasn't sure just exactly how strong. The fallen wood must have weighed several hundred pounds at least, and it would have required far more force to drive it back into the ground than simply lift it, but that didn't always mean everything. He'd ran into strongmen before who lacked the fast-twitch fiber needed to be anything more than walking trash compactors. They could lift, sure, and push things around, but when it came to throwing out a punch or dodging they were hopeless.

Just because Moira could haul a tree around that didn't mean she had what it took to be a fighter. Clearly there were some things in her background that he had been oblivious too (granted... he'd only known her for an hour or so at the most by now), so maybe there was far more to this chick than he'd expected.

"But my grandma could plant trees, too. Didn't mean she wanted to spar with me."

Actually, he had no idea who his grandmother was, at least not his real one, but he wanted to draw out more of the girl's personality. Before he either said yes or laughed in her face, he wanted to know who she was and what she could do.

Hellbound crossed his arms over his chest and stepped up close to her. He smelled like a locker-room shower and cheap shampoo, the faded memory of sweat and blood from the ring lurked beneath the pungent, surface odor of his living cigar.

He stayed a hair's breadth from Moira, not quite touching her but also standing well inside her comfort zone. It was a personal distance that seemed to issue a challenge on more than one level.

"So exactly how hard did they say you hit?"

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Just before Moira could strut her stuff, Stephanie quickly ran up between Moira and O'Ren. "Sorry to interrupt," she said, looking very pleased. "But Jack and I are going to cut out early." She pointed back to the fire, where Jack was holding two plastic cups amid the large crowd. He waved to Moira and O'Ren, but was too far away for conversation. "I'll call you tomorrow," she added to Moira, grinning before she turned and headed back to rejoin her buddy.

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Hellbound drew back in surprise at the interruption, uncrossing his arms and making room for Steph. Unless she was superhuman as well, then getting the chipper girl caught between the two was likely to be a bad idea.

It sounded like Jack did fast work. The earlier conversation implied that he'd put down some ground work into the deal, but they'd only just showed up to the party before the pair was running off. To some extent he was surprised that he was leaving with only the one blond on his arm, but to each his own.

"Tell Jack to get a hold of me, later." Hellbound called after the departing Steph. "We'll talk about my career."

With that taken care of, he turned back to Moira and asked "Now where were we?"

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"Yeah, we'll talk tomorrow," Moira smiled at Stephanie as she walked over to the fallen tree. She waved at Jack as her friend ran back to him. Waiting for them to get out of view, she rolled the tree under her foot.

After they were gone, she made her showing to O'Ren. When he asked his question, she stopped in her tracks. She was glad she didn't need to breathe or she would of gasped and had to smell the cigar he was sucking. Not believing what he was insinuating, she had to make sure. She looked to him with all seriousness, "I don't think I can hit you, full force, without breaking something."

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"Oh, what, you mean like a nail?" Hellbound grinned amusedly at the girl. There was simply no way that he could accept the possibility of a pretty thing like her being able to hurt a guy like him. It was going to take a full physical demonstration to teach him the reality of such a delusion.

"Sorry 'bout that, Moe. I know how tough it is to try puttin' a dent into this pretty face of mine, but the least you could do is give it your best shot."

He'd decided that the nickname Moe didn't roll of his tongue as harshly as he'd thought it would. Moira probably ended up being called 'Red' all the time. It was a better bet that Hellbound could find some more memorable status with something more unique.

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Hellbound felt a touch of surprise at the show of tenderness. Here he was prepped for taking a hard shot to the jaw, but what he got instead was a beautiful girl's head layed against his chest. To say that his body had been thrown off its equilibrium was an understatement.

Shifting gears from fight-mode to something he was less prepared for also had other influences on parts of his body, but fortunately he hadn't worn some of his more form-fitting jeans for the evening.

"Ah, yeah..." He tried to regain his balance as Moira picked her head up. Hellbound looked into her eyes as she offered an alternative demonstration and cleared his throat as he tried to think straight.

"Yeah, okay, so you're wanting me to teach you how to fight but you're afraid to hit me? I'm pretty sure it doesn't really work that way, but I'll humor you for once. Don't hit me in the head, just... here."

He held his arms straight out with just a slight bend to the elbows. His palms were facing Moira and his feet were set in a bracing stance.

"Just the palms, then. A few quick jabs. I promise not to break."

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Moira knew O'Ren wouldn't take her seriously. If she were him, she wouldn't either. Not to mention with all the quick changes of emotions, she very much wanted to act on her primal instincts as much as he was showing. She smiled and shook her head as he assumed the sparring position. "OK, I'll try to take it lightly," she said putting up her fists, "Please forgive me if I hurt you." She wound up as far as she could and connected with his hand with enough force to knock ten trees to the ground, but all it did was make him stagger back about a foot. "That was a light punch," she smiled while walking over to him.

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